


The Sacrifice

by ALCzysz17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 3 am, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Charming Jon, Corruption of Sansa, Dark Romance, Dark!Jon, Devil Worshipping, Devil's Hour, Eventual Dark!Sansa, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jon is the Devil/Stranger, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Modern Westeros, Religious Sacrifice, Sansa-centric, Virgin Sacrifice, borderline dubious consent, jonsa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-06-12 03:10:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15330429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALCzysz17/pseuds/ALCzysz17
Summary: Sansa's parents have strict rules. No wearing makeup until sixteen, no wearing revealing clothes like midriff and skirts below the knees and absolutely no dating until after graduation. Sansa had always respected her parent's wishes, but she intended to at least have her first kiss at her best friend's graduation beach party at White Harbor. What she didn't expect was to be taken as a virgin sacrifice to the Stranger from a religious cult as well.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I saw this picture set on tumblr for the Dark!Jon event posted by 'itwasmycroftbbc' and I was so taken by it that I just had to write an accompanying fic. I am a major horror buff, love my horror movies ever since I was seven, so this will have the feel of a horror movie in my opinion. I decided to split this into two chapters because I wasn't entirely sure if she would be okay with smut or not, and I found a perfect stopping point between as well. The second chapter will contain the smut portion of the story and hopefully will be posted later tonight.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy this first part! ^_~
> 
> http://itwasmycroftbbc.tumblr.com/image/175925018458 
> 
> (Link for the picture set)
> 
> Needless to say this is dedicated to 'itwasmycroftbbc' for producing a lovely set and giving me great inspiration!

 

 

Sansa Stark grew up in a big family, one that was strict on certain things. She wasn’t allowed to wear a skirts above the knees or show her midriff, not allowed to wear makeup until she was sixteen and both her and her sister, Arya were not allowed to date until they had graduated high school. It was more her mother, Catelyn’s wishes than her father’s. _‘Too many girls fooling around at sixteen and getting knocked up, but not my girls! They cannot date until they are well out of high school and by then they’ll be focusing on college than boys.’_

For Arya it meant nothing, she had never truly been interested in dating, much less kissing boys. More so she was about playing sports and competing with those same boys. But Sansa though, she always wanted to date, always wanted a magical first kiss and romantic date with the boy of her dreams.

Her mother’s strict rules kept her from making a mistake with Joffrey Baratheon though. Saved her from not only having her first kiss ruined, but possibly more and worse if she had not followed her mother’s rules and received a black eye courtesy of Joff's friend, Meryn Trant, for her trouble. Still, Sansa always felt left out when her friends like her best friend, Jeyne Poole talked about her first kiss, or the first time she had sex. Sansa was always so eager to hear all about her experiences, living vicariously through her, but that left an ache of wanting to know as well.

Sansa’s graduation from Winterfell high couldn’t have come fast enough, 4.0 GPA and a valedictorian scholarship to any college she wished and to get out from under her parent’s thumb. Her graduation day was something to remember for her, a milestone for both her education and for her to finally-finally date. Her graduation party was modest and enjoyable, her big brother, Robb snuck her a few celebratory shots and she danced the night away.

It was for Jeyne’s graduation party where the real fun began.

Jeyne was having her party out at White Harbor for the weekend. Sansa had begged and begged and begged her parents to let her go, vowing there was adult supervision; there wasn’t. In the end, her brother vouched for her, gaining her parent’s approval and in hindsight, she should have known something bad would happen…

\------------------------

The drive to White harbor wasn’t as bad as it could have been though it took the whole day from eight in the morning to about six that night, traffic being the main issue for the delay. It didn’t stop the excitement in Sansa’s veins as they got up to their hotel, sharing a room with Jeyne while the other girls and guys had their own rooms. They ate dinner and talked on the balcony, letting the sea wind blow through their hair as they discussed their plans for Saturday.

That night when Sansa went to sleep, strange dreams haunted her mind. Flashes of sand, fire and darkness swirled throughout her dreams and the vision of dark eyes, black with red irises woken her at three am, covered in sweat and gasping for breath. She glanced at the clock then over to Jeyne, sleeping soundly.

Standing up, Sansa went to the balcony, stepping out to embrace the cooling wind to dry her sleep sweat and hopefully drown the awful dreams that still haunted her mind. Her eyes drew down to the White Harbor beach, empty and dark. She looked up to see the moon more than half full, waxing gibbous, she thought and a full moon tomorrow night. Her eyes drew back down to the beach, thoughts of walking down there were soothing until her eyes pinpointed a single person out walking on the sand.

From her position on the balcony, floor fourteen, it was hard to tell for sure who it was, man or woman, but there was definitely someone walking the beach. Sansa watched them walk for a bit, coming across the hotel she was at then stopping right in front of her. Her breath hitched when the person looked right up at her, staring. She swallowed drily, taking in the dark silhouette of the person’s prone position, watching her watching them.

Finally, after a minute of their standstill, the person turned away and continued down the beach. Sansa couldn’t help but watch them walk, well on until she could not make out their shape anymore. She turned away after, entering her room and heading back to bed. Hopefully she’d get some sleep that night considering the plans they had tomorrow would not afford her much sleep the next night.

Sansa woke in the morning feel surprisingly refreshed considering she had an awful time falling back to sleep after waking from a nightmare. She remembered glancing at the clock and seeing the time only a minute before four am, then she was waking up at eight to Jeyne popping in with breakfast from downstairs for them.

The last thing she thought of before falling into slumber’s grip was the lone person out on the beach; watching her.

The girls went shopping for most of the day, exploring White Harbor’s boardwalk and the little shops and eateries along the way while the boys did whatever they were doing. Jeyne commented they were probably at the arcade. Beth concurred, stating that they’d be bored otherwise.

As they ate at the little sandwich shop on the boardwalk, she felt eyes upon her. Sansa took a bite of fries as she turned her blue eyes over to see a man watching her. He had broad shoulders, light sandy hair and a strong jawline clean of hair. He dropped his sunglasses down his nose and gave her a dimpled smile. Sansa blushed, glancing down from him and when she looked back up, he was standing.

“Hello ladies, I’m Harry,” the cute man introduced himself, moving a chair to sit by them, more specifically by Sansa. “I haven’t seen any beautiful ladies like you around, visiting for the weekend?”

“Yes, graduation party at the beach,” Jeyne announced with a giggle though she was giving Sansa raised eyebrows.

“Oh nice, I graduated two years ago but I go to White Harbor college right now, any of you ladies heading this way?” Harry inquired but again, Sansa noticed his eyes were drawn to her and stayed on her.

“I haven’t decided, but I think my parents are hoping I go to the university in Winterfell,” Sansa answered after Jeyne kicked her underneath the table, her skin smarting from the sharp dig of her best friend’s heel.

“I see, well that’s understandable, especially since Winterfell is a bigger college.”

They continued to talk for at least an hour, mostly Harry talked about life at White Harbor though again, he seemed to be talking more to her than her friends. Sansa didn’t mind though. She hardly ever got attention back home since everyone knew about her parent’s strict rules and she obeyed them, no matter what. She was always the good girl for her parents while Arya was the hellion and with three boys and two girls, Sansa figured being the good one that did no wrong was best.

She was given a bit more freedom that way.

Harry was kind, charming and flirtatious, Sansa found herself walking the boardwalk beside him as her friends walked further ahead while they talked. He kept touching her too, his arm brushing hers as they walked or his hand touching her lower back when they stepped aside for kids on skateboards, and rollerblades. She felt flutters in her stomach at each and every touch and she craved for more to come.

She received a text from Jeyne telling her to ask Harry to their beach party that night and with massive effort, she asked. Harry smiled with his cute dimples, stating he’d love nothing better than to spend more time with her and left her with a kiss on her cheek.

Sansa spent the rest of the afternoon struggling to decide on which bikini to wear then how to wear her hair and how much makeup was too much for a beach party. She went into hysterics over how to look that took nearly an hour for Jeyne and Beth to calm her down and get themselves ready as well.

By the end, Sansa close her lemon-yellow bikini (her favorite) with a green wraparound skirt that was longer on one side to show off her long legs and a short tank top that showed off her belly with her hair down, straightened and her long bangs pulled back from her face. Sansa went with some eyeliner to bring out her blue eyes and waterproof mascara to darken her auburn eyelashes, further opening her eye to the world. As she looked at herself in the mirror one final time, she felt a bubbling in her stomach as she thought of what Harry would think of her.

Would he find her cute? Did he think she was cute period? He did call them all beautiful ladies when he introduced himself, but did he mean it? Sansa nibbled on her bottom lip, was she trying too hard? She didn’t want to come off easy, but she also wanted to be acknowledged and liked. Would he kiss her? Sansa flushed at the thought, she truly hoped so.

Her and the girls quickly did a few selfies in the mirror and out on the balcony before Jeyne’s boyfriend started pounding on the door, telling them they needed to hurry up. Her stomach was still bubbling in anxiety as they made their way towards the elevator. It was four in the afternoon by the time they got on the beach, the sun still out and hot, but the wind kept things cool as they enjoyed the sand and ocean.

Seeing as Winterfell was usually cooler even during summer, Sansa had to take care to lotion up on sunscreen, so she wouldn’t burn and look like a lobster. She envied Jeyne’s darker complexion with her darker hair, though she loved her auburn hair it came with her fair skin that burned so easily and her freckles darkened when spending extended periods in the direct sunlight. Her shoulders were particularly annoying as was her face, she couldn’t layer on sunscreen fast enough to avoid those freckles from darkening.

It was nearing six by the time Harry joined them, bringing along a few friends of his own to amp up the party atmosphere. Myranda was nice, boisterous and blunt, but enjoyable all the same. Also having Harry and his friends that were already twenty-one helped with getting beer and alcohol as they set up the bonfire and music. Before long, they were drinking and dancing.

Sansa laughed loudly, spinning around with Harry, cozying up in his arms while grinding against his front. Tequila was her choice of drink, vodka being too tasteless and whiskey too strong. She was feeling quite good as the night wore on and before she knew it she was sitting on Harry’s lap and having her first kiss, her first French kiss and make out session in rapid succession.

The full moon was out, bright and illuminating. Sansa smiled as she felt Harry kissing down her neck, nibbling on her skin as she enjoyed his attentions. It was getting rather late though, her sense of time being off from drinking, but upon looking at the full moon, she could tell it was nearing midnight. Astrology class had been one of her favorite electives and it was fun to show she could tell time from the position of the sun and moon.

Beth had already left with her boyfriend, heading up to the hotel while Jeyne and her boyfriend seemed to be winding down and possibly heading to his room, leaving her alone in hers. Sansa thought about asking Harry up to her room, the possibility of getting her v-card checked along with her first kiss was enticing, but she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to rock the boat so thoroughly just yet, but she wanted to spend more time with him too.

Her decision was made for her when Harry turned her head back to ask if she wished to take a walk along the beach in the moonlight. Sansa’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of how romantic that would be, to stroll along the beach, watching the waves lap at the shore with her hand locked within his. She blurted out ‘yes’ quickly, flushing at how eager she came off. Harry smiled his dimpled smile though, gave her a lingering kiss on the lips then dragged her to stand and walk down to the lapping waves.

They walked in silence, Sansa contemplating if she should just invite him up to her room. Who was to say they had to have sex, maybe she could get her first hand job experience or…Sansa blushed at the thought, her first blowjob experience. She bit her lip and looked further ahead to the long expanse of beach and ocean, the sea breeze tossing her hair about. She never heard the approaching feet behind them until she felt a sharp pain at the back of her head then darkness…

Sansa woke with a start, gasping breathless and struggling to stand until she realized her arms were bound behind her back. She looked around to see some trees around her, but she could make out the beach further ahead through the tree line. There was an ache at the back of her skull, protesting her rapid movements as she took in her surroundings. Where am I, she thought desperately, what happened?

She remembered the bonfire beach party, drinking and making out with Harry then…

Sansa groaned at the ache of her head as she remembered walking the beach with Harry then darkness. Immediately she looked around, where was Harry? Was he alright? Did he get struck in the head as well? She looked about in a panic, but she was all alone with grass beneath her body and trees shading her from the full moon. Looking through the canopy, she made out the moon’s position, it was nearing three in the morning if she was reading the positioning correctly.

Slowly, she got up until she was on her butt, her legs remained unbound, thankfully. Sansa shivered at the breeze, only then realizing her clothes had been changed. She looked down to see she was wearing a white dress with a V-neck opening that told her she was missing her bikini top and sleeves that were long with lace on the collar of the neck and end of the sleeves. The dress came down to her ankles from the looks of it and upon shifting, she realized she was also missing her bikini bottoms.

Tears welled up in her eyes, wondering if she had been violated, but she didn’t feel bruised aside from her head and she didn’t ache between her thighs like Jeyne had spoken of when she first had sex. Sansa forced herself to relax, to remain calm as she tried to figure out what was going on. She hadn’t been raped…yet. She flinched internally. And there didn’t seem to be anyone around at the moment.

With a little effort on her part, Sansa managed to get to her knees then struggled to get on her feet with the dress making things harder. Once she was standing though she tumbled into a tree, flinching at the pain of the bark in her skin as her mind spun and her legs quaked under her weight. Head trauma and tipsiness was a bad combination. Her vision swirled for a moment, forcing her to close her eyes and breath as softly as she could through her nose, least she been over and throw up.

When she opened her eyes again, she heard voices and she could make out a fire brewing out on the beach. Fear gripped at her heart, Sansa forced her legs to move, stumbling back from the beach towards the dark woods around her. A snapping twig made her gasp then she was running as fast as her legs could get her.

Sansa screamed as a pair of hands wrapped around her waist, hoisting her back against a solid chest. “Shh, shh, it’s alright Sansa, it’s me, Harry.” Sansa relaxed, gasping for breath.

“Harry! What happened?! Are you okay?!” Sansa questioned breathlessly, spinning around to see his dimpled smile and fluffy short hair.

“I’m fine, sweetling,” he answered smoothly, brushing back her long bangs from her face with a soft hand on her cheek.

“Hurry Harry! Untie me before whomever they are come back, we need to get out of here!” Yet his hand never moved from her face as his other hand closed around her upper arm as she moved to turn around and present her bound wrists. “Harry, hurry! What are you doing?! Help me!” Sansa wailed as she struggled to turn around. She stopped though and looked up at him as he just gazed down at her, wistful and quiet.

“It’s okay, Sansa. Don’t worry, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Harry uttered quietly. Fear pooled into her tummy, gurgling violently inside as she realized that Harry wasn’t going to help her at all.

“What?” she mumbled in confusion, blinking back tears as she took in his dimpling smile twisting into a smirk, teeth gleaming in the filtered moonlight through the canopy above them.

“Everything will be over faster if you don’t struggle and stay quiet,” he continued, letting her cheek go as his other hand tightened almost painfully around her arm. Harry turned them back towards the beach, walking faster than her bare feet could keep up with.

“I don’t understand, Harry! What’s going on?! Why are you doing this?!” Sansa cried out, stumbling to keep up as her tears started to roll down her cheeks. He merely ignored her though, dragging her through the line of trees where their feet hit cold sand.

The bonfire was blazing now, larger than the one for their beach party along with more people loitering around. Sansa took in their black cloaks, some had hoods over their heads and concealing their faces while others were down as they conversed around the fire. Many stopped to look at her, taking her in as she tried to keep up with Harry’s long strides. She looked to him to see a similar black cloak over his clothes as well.

“What is this?” she asked but he didn’t respond.

An older man approached them, he was shorter than Harry by a few inches with slowly greying hair and beard encircling his lips only. He shook hands with Harry then peered over to Sansa, watching her with his keen eyes as a slow smile came to his lips though it was twisted and nasty. She didn’t like it, nor the way his eyes lingered on her body, especially the gap through the V-neck that showed the cleavage of her breasts.

“Ah Harry, you’ve come through once again with a sacrifice! And who might this young, beautiful lady be?” the man asked brightly, his lips still in a twisted smile. Sansa refused to talk though, pursing her lips together tightly and staring him down with hard eyes.

“Sansa Stark of Winterfell, just graduated high school and one hundred percent a virgin,” Harry announced loudly, smirking in pride.

“How do you know that? Who’s to say I am a virgin?!” Sansa called out quickly. This was becoming too surreal, the black cloaks, words of sacrifice and virgins, was this some type of cult? The way they were acting told her so. Harry turned to her with that prideful smirk.

“Before I talked to you at the party, your friend Jeyne, sweet, caring girl that she is, told me to be gentle with you especially if we had sex because it would be-quote on quote-your first time.” Sansa couldn’t help the way her face heated up as she glared at him.

“Why though, why does that matter?” her question echoed around them, only the waves of the ocean and the crackling of fire interrupted the quiet.

“Because my dear,” the older man started, reaching out to touch her auburn hair that seemed to flame redder in the fire, “you are going to be our virgin sacrifice.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry is just my villain of choice lately, well him and Littlefinger that is. Ugh, I am loving writing this and cannot wait to finish the second part for y'all to enjoy! 
> 
> P.S - is it okay that I am still posting to the event even though it's ended?? 
> 
> Let me know whatcha think!? ^_~


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Sansa be killed as the virgin sacrifice to the Stranger? Read to find out! ^_~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are gonna hate me...like seriously...I've got a problem, maybe I should see somebody because I cannot write without some damn context and plot for my smut! If you noticed, I added a chapter 3...because that is how lame I am. I hit 5k words and realized that I wanted to explore the concept more, to darken it up and I found that I love the way I wrote Jon in this story. One of the movies I kind of draw inspiration from is actually a tv movie from 'Tales from the crypt' (showing my age here) called "Demon Knight" using a bit of Billy Zane's character, the collector (though not as over the top as he is, damn he's the best part of that movie). It's a good movie with Will Smith's wife in it (like she's young in it, 18 or something I think). But I digress, as I worked out the dialogue I just kind of...went a different way than I originally intended and now I need to flesh shit out more. I do think it'll only be three parts though! *fingers crossed*
> 
> *I have no idea about the ritual I use, I made the whole thing up from imagination and movie reference. I am not religious, so please don't hold that against me while reading this.
> 
> Enjoy! ^_~

 

 

Sansa could feel all the blood draining from her face as the realization of what was about to happen to her came over her. Frantically she looked around her, seeing uncaring faces, shrouded in shadows from the blazing fire. No one was going to help her, no one cared. More tears came to her eyes as she realized she was going to die. I can’t die though, I haven’t even lived yet, Sansa thought anxiously.

She started to struggle against Harry’s hold, digging her feet into the cold sand and trying to force him to release her to no avail. He was stronger than her.

“Oh, don’t be afraid, my dear, this is a great opportunity for you! Not everyone can be sacrificed to the Stranger, only the special ones get that chance!” the older man boosted excitedly, running his fingers through her long hair. Sansa pulled back, grinding her teeth as she tried to appear stronger than she felt.

“You’re all crazy! You need help from professionals! Let me go!” Sansa shouted, getting louder and louder but none of them seemed to mind. Her mouth opened to scream more when a fist to the gut made her gasp for air and hunch over. Harry released her to fall face first into the sand.

“No more screaming, you made my ears ring. How long until the ceremony starts, Petyr?” Harry asked, turning away from her as they started talking among themselves.

Sansa moved her face to the side, spitting out sand from her mouth. It was hard for her to breath and she couldn’t move very well either. Things were starting to look rather hopeless as well. All her friends had already gone up to the hotel for the night, leaving her behind with virtual strangers that she thought were becoming friends and now she was stuck on some part of White Harbor beach, further from civilization with a bunch of cult freaks intending to sacrifice her to one of the Seven; the Stranger.

Her heart was pounding inside her chest as she tried to figure out a solution to her dilemma. Screaming wouldn’t help, no one was here for her and as she peered down the beach all she saw was trees lining one side and the ocean lining the other. Wherever she was taken it was very far from other people and buildings, a good place to take someone you intended to sacrifice. Sansa whimpered involuntarily as all her conclusions resulted in the same outcome, that being her gutted as a virgin sacrifice.

Moving slowly, Sansa maneuvered herself onto her back, using her heels and hands to push her up to sit on her butt. No one paid her much mind, but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching her either. She glanced about, looking for some type of weapon on them, if this was a sacrifice then one of them would be holding a ceremonial dagger to stab her with. The thought made her queasy, but she forced herself to be logical.

Seeing some of Harry’s friends though as she searched for visible weapons made her want to cry, especially when she noticed Myranda talking loudly with another woman. She had really liked them too, thought if she decided to come to White Harbor for college that they could be her friends, so she wasn’t so lonely and now…

Sansa turned away from her, continuing her search but coming up empty as all their cloaks concealed any weapons they may have on them along with their clothes underneath. She turned to Harry and Petyr, figuring that Petyr was the leader of the cult. His cloak was similar, but he wore a large medallion necklace around his neck. The shape of the medallion was that of the symbol for the Stranger with blood red coloring, some rusted looking on the ends. Sansa hated to think that it wasn’t actually rust but dried blood.

Grunting and movement caught her eye. Sansa turned away to see four men hauling in some wood and as they placed it in front of her, using large, flat hammers to force it into the sand, she realized it was a stake. Her throat went dry as she took in the crossed wood.

“It’s almost time,” Petyr announced, clapping his hands together. “The Stranger’s hour is upon us and we need to be on time!”

Everyone started to move, forming a circle around the large bonfire, each pulling large, black candles from their cloaks and lighting them before placing the candles on the sand in front of them. Sansa forced herself to stand again then she took off as fast as she could, using her off balance movements and momentum to slam into a woman, knocking her down and breaking the circle.

The sand fought against her as she ran causing Sansa to stumble in her movements. She pushed as hard as she could, hearing thundering steps behind her in the sand told her she was being followed by a few people. Sansa barely managed a few feet before she was slammed into the sand once more. Air escaped her lungs at the heavy weight on her body as her arms ached in their locked position behind her back. She bit her lip harshly, drawing blood as her face and body burned from the scratching of the sand.

“I told you not to fucking struggle! Fuck! You are so lucky I can’t fuck you because all I wanna do right now is force my cock between your thighs and rip your cunt open!” Harry growled loudly into her ear, getting his weigh off her body then yanking her to stand. Sansa turned to see the anger on his face and without a single thought she spat the blood pooling in her mouth from her torn lip, watching in satisfaction as it landed over his eye and on his cheek.

Sansa fell to the sand again after he smacked her across the face. It was worth it though, she thought as Harry grabbed a chunk of her hair, forcing her to stand as he pulled her up by her hair. “Usually we try to be humane, but I’ll make sure it hurts when we sacrifice you, Sansa. I’ll make sure the last thing you remember is nothing but pure, unadulterated pain,” Harry hissed as he all but dragged back to the circle.

Petyr frowned at her bruised state. Sansa could feel that her knees were scraped up, a bruise was surely forming on her left cheek along with her bleeding lip and sand covered her skin and clothes. The older man approached her then much to her disgust wiped down the sand off her body, including brushing her breasts over the dress and the skin between her breasts. If she had more blood in her mouth, she’d have spat in his face as well.

“Now, now dear, no need to be afraid. I know, I know, things may appear uncertain for you right now, but trust me, Sansa, you are being used for a higher calling. With your sacrifice we can stay safe and nourished, become more powerful to protect the weak and downtrodden. We can’t do that without you, sweetling,” Petyr stated proudly, like he truly believed the words he spoke. Of course, he did, he’s insane, Sansa thought as she swallowed back the blood in her mouth.

“Now tie her up to the stake, and please be gentle! No more bruises and cuts!” Petyr gave Harry the side-eye before she was tugged away towards the big wooden stake.

It took three men to untie her and force her up there, Sansa struggled the whole way though. She managed to kick one man in the balls while scratching her nails into Harry’s arm, leaving him cursing and bleeding, but eventually they got her tied up with her arms bound once more on either end of the stake and her legs bound at the bottom to keep her from kicking. The stake was placed close to the fire, Sansa could feel the heat of it along her back as she was faced forward towards the tree line.

“Tonight, we gather to make a sacrifice to the Stranger, our lord and protector, our savior in our times of need. The God of Death, the one God of the Seven that is overlooked by others, looked down upon and uttered in fear, but we do not fear him, we embrace him as he embraces us. Brother Harrold has found us our virgin sacrifice. With her sacrifice to the Stranger, we shall gain the powers of enlightenment and wisdom beyond our years, with this sacrifice he shall smile upon us, his children, his chosen ones! Tonight, will mark the start of our yearly calendar until next year where our next sacrifice shall be made!” Petyr yelled out, waving his hands as he spoke to his followers.

Sansa couldn’t stop the fear erupting inside her as she watched them echo his words, praising the Stranger and asking for his love and protection. Her eyes watered as it became more and more obvious that she wasn’t going to get out of this alive. Petyr and Harry stepped back, joining the circle around her and the bonfire that blazed behind her. Harry pulled his hood over his head, giving her an appointed look before doing so, but Petyr remained hoodless.

Slowly they started to chant. At first, Sansa wasn’t sure what they were saying, but the louder they grew, the more she realized it wasn’t in English, it was in High Valyrian. The candles flames whipped in the sea breeze as did their black cloaks, each of their hoods up and hiding their faces from her eyes. The chanting grew louder and louder, their hands raising up to the sky in complete synchronization, revealing how often they did this ceremony; once every year.

Sansa felt dizzy at their voices, the words complete gibberish to her ears but strangely affecting her, drawing her into a strange trance. During their chanting they started to pull pouches from their cloaks, dipping their hands into them then flicking their wrists to send out dust at her. It smelled sweet, filling the air as the winds blew, it reminded her of lavender and rose. Sansa moved to look behind her as best as she could, trying to see past the cloud of dust, looking beyond the fire to see lightening flash out on the ocean followed by the crack of thunder.

Still the chanting continued, buzzing in her ears as the dust filled her nose. Sansa forced herself to struggle against her bindings, to not give up so easily and fight; fight to the death. Another clash of thunder echoed around them, almost covering up the chanting as the skies darkened further, clouds coming over the full moon.

It was through a flash of lightening that Sansa saw it. Out in the tree line only a few feet away was the silhouette of a tall figure, standing and watching. She gasped at the sight, ready to shout for help but as another flash brighten the area around them, she noticed something different about the person standing there. They stood tall, true, but very tall, inhumanly tall and as they left the tree line, she noticed they too wore a black cloak with a hood and on top of the hood…long antler like horns that pointed backwards at an angle.

Sansa screamed at the sight, her struggles renewed. Everyone around her ignored her screaming though, continuing to chant and toss their dust as the winds grew heavier and heavier. Her hair flung into her face, blocking her vision for mere seconds and as she managed to look past, the thing was upon them, standing right behind Petyr. It towered over him and everyone else around it including Harry whom was rather tall himself. A hand reached out from the black cloak and touched the older man’s shoulder, halting his chanting as he stepped back with wide eyes, staring up at the figure.

Immediately everyone stopped, no more chanting and no more tossing of sweet smelling dust. Petyr watched the figure move beyond him, jaw dropped and eyes so wide, surely his eyeballs were ready to roll out of their sockets. Sansa glanced around, but everyone seemed to be in awe of the tall figure, slowly making its way towards her. Another flash of lightening was the only warning before thunder crashed above and rain started to come down in heavy drops. Sansa flinched at the slaps of rain on her skin, drenching her in seconds though the figure still approached her, remaining unaffected by the rain, remaining completely dry.

When the figure stopped in front of her, she was at level with it’s eyes and she could feel them watching her, observing her. She couldn’t move, she could hardly breath, all Sansa could do was stare into the darkness of it’s hood, knowing it was watching her. Movement brought her gaze beyond the figure’s frame to see that everyone had dropped into kneeling postures, leaning over their knees to press their foreheads to the ground. They were either worshipping the figure or praying, regardless it didn’t take a genius to realize whom it was standing in front of her.

“The Stranger,” Sansa mumbled fearfully, her eyes widen as she took him in. Through another flash of lightening, she saw his dark eyes, black where it should be white and red within his irises. She cried out in shock, flashes of her nightmare came to her as she tried to rear back from the being.

“My virgin,” he spoke in a dark, deep voice. Sansa shook her head, still trying to pull back as he reached up with long, calloused fingers to brush her cheek, pushing away a wet strand of hair. “Mine.”

With a snap of his fingers the bindings around her wrists and ankles burned into ash though she felt no heat. Instantly Sansa fell forward, her arms achy and tired and numb, there was no way to catch herself from hitting the sand a third time, instead he caught her effortlessly, cradling her in his arms before she found herself closer to his hooded head than before. Sansa gasped though the sound never truly escaped her lips as his closed around hers in a binding kiss. The heat of his lips against hers was different than anything she’d ever felt, and it burned through her into her very soul it seemed, warming her core even though her skin was icy cold.

His mouth moved over hers, molding their lips together in a fusion. Then as the heat extended throughout her body, things around her eyes grew darker and darker until the only thing she saw was his dark eyes with blood red irises…

\------------------------

Sansa jolted, her eyes snapping open as she woke. Her body ached all over, bruises having formed on her skin in blacks, blues and yellows. She looked down upon her body to see her knobby knees yellowed and scraped, still wearing the white dress she was put in. Another jolt went through her body as she remembered everything, Harry, Petyr, the fire and ceremony and…

Turning around, she looked at the new place she laid. It was dark, stone and rock was everywhere from the ground to what she could make of the ceiling. She had been laid upon a flatten stone, long and narrow it barely supported her body, had she moved around much she would have fallen off to the hard ground. Sansa took in her surroundings, noticing that it seemed to be cave that she was in and it was not dark like a cave normally would be.

Testing out her feet, it took her a moment to gain her balance and stand and even longer to really roam the cave, warily of her every step in fear of rolling an ankle. She found her source of light, a torch mounted to the stone wall, leading down a tall corridor from the small open chamber she woke in. As Sansa looked down the empty and dark corridor, she wondered if she shouldn’t just stay put but then if she did, that figure…

The Stranger, she amended, would surely find her and do…what exactly? Sansa bit her bottom lip, wincing at the pain of her busted lip and tasting a hint of blood on her tongue. The last thing she remembered was him holding her and…kissing me, Sansa thought breathlessly as a shiver ran down her spine. He had kissed her, said she was his and kissed her.

Sansa took the executive decision to move forward. She placed her hand along the stone wall, walking forward until it was nothing but darkness around her, forcing her to take smaller steps. It wasn’t long until she came upon another mounted torch. Sansa walked for maybe five more minutes before coming into a large cavern in the cave. She looked up to take in the light filtering through cracks above, illuminating the cavern.

She looked around, taking in dancing colors upon the wall from the lighting, even the water leaking down the side of the cave wall reflected the glittering colors. It was, dare she say it, magical appearing, giving a sense of ease in her chest that she hadn’t known she needed. Sansa walked further into the cavern from the corridor until her eyes caught movement to her right.

Turning towards the movement, Sansa gasped as she took in the man leaning casually back against an outcropping rock, one leg thrown over the other in a black trench coat. He wasn’t looking at her, merely looking back at the wall with the glittering colors in the water. His hair was dark and thick curls sprouting from his scalp down towards his shoulders with a dark beard that ran along his jawline and encircling his mouth. Slowly, he turned to gaze at her, his eyes were dark, that much Sansa could tell from how far away she was as he observed her.

“Pretty,” he commented and for a moment, Sansa thought he meant her until he pointed to the wall continuing, “ain’t it?”

“Yes,” she answered softly, following his pointed finger briefly before looking back at him.

“You barely looked,” he pointed out almost mockingly though the corners of his mouth lifted in jest. Sansa only shrugged.

“I was looking before you noticed me.” The man nodded to her response.

“Oh, I noticed you,” he commented then stood up, leaving the rock he was leaning against and coming near her.

Sansa stepped back, watching him carefully for any sudden movements. She had no idea who this man was or why he was even in the cave, not to mention if he was friend or foe. Though honestly, Sansa was over having friends that weren’t from Winterfell at this point.

“Who are you?” Sansa asked after a moment of watching him meander around the cave, lost in thought, or so he appeared. He ignored her question for a time until he was close enough that she could see his face better, make out his rather handsome features as well as his dark eyes.

Black with red irises.

Sansa flinched, stepping back again only to stumble into the cave wall from losing her footing. He chuckled at her misstep, smiling broadly at her.

“Who do you think I am?” he countered briskly, leaning against the same cave wall as she was, only a few feet away. Sansa swallowed drily, her heart racing inside her chest as she regarded him quietly. He was acting harmless, even looked human but she could still remember his dark eyes up close and the antler like horns protruding out from his head earlier.

“The Stranger…the God of Death…the Devil,” Sansa breathed, barely speaking above a whisper. He cocked his head to the side, smile still in place, like he enjoyed hearing his names, his titles.

“Aye,” he agreed, clapping his hands together loudly and making her jump. “The bringer of plagues and guardian of the damned!” His call echoed around them as he seemed rather pleased by the way she looked at him.

She needed to be brave, like Robb and her father, like her mother always was. If she remembered anything from reading of her parent’s different religions then it was that the Stranger wasn’t evil, he only watched over the dead, so they could not escape the underworld and he only punished the souls of the damned and Sansa knew for a fact that she wasn’t bad or damned. She had hardly done anything at all, there was no need for him to keep her…she hoped.

“I…I wish to go home now…please.” She quickly tacked on a polite ‘please’ in hopes her good manners would help to weigh in her favor. The Stranger shook his head at her, closing his eyes and bending down.

“I can’t let you leave, Sansa Stark,” he replied, opening his eyes to peer up at her.

“Why not? Do you truly need me, my soul? I’ve done nothing to gain entrance to your world, I’m innocent!” Sansa stepped back from the wall, moving further away from him. Her heart picked up in speed. She didn’t understand why she was here, why he couldn’t just let her go?

“Precisely,” he answered with a snap of his fingers. “This is why I want you. You are pure, innocent and…intoxicating. You are strong, gentle and kind, and when I saw you there on that stake…I had to have you.” He stepped off from the wall, mirroring her movements as he continued to speak, “Give yourself to me, Sansa Stark.” The Stranger stopped with his dark entrancing eyes to bore them into her very soul. “Give yourself to me and we can take vengeance upon them, upon those who had hurt you and willing to kill you for their own benefit.”

His words slowly sunk into her mind and she gasped at what he was telling her. “But…but their your followers, I don’t understand…”

“And? I never asked them to follow me, to worship me, nor had I ever asked for virgin sacrifices.” He shrugged at the end, like it was of no consequence to him. Sansa felt so confused, those crazy people formed a cult and followed a God of Death and yet he cared nothing for them, offered to kill them for her if she gave herself to him.

It didn’t take but only a moment to understand what he meant by give herself to him. A flush came to her cheeks as she remembered the warm press of his lips against hers. It was harder to ignore that feeling once she realized how handsome the Stranger truly was, even if his eyes somewhat scared her they were still entrancing, burning pathways upon her skin as he took her in.

“But you appeared? You came for me!” Sansa yelled in confusion. If he never asked for a virgin sacrifice, then why did he appear? Why take her then?

“Sansa,” he started, clicking his tongue as though she were an impudent child, “has it ever occurred to you that this was the first time I ever graced them with my presence? You were not sacrificed like the other girls who were gutted and left to rot in the sea. You weren’t sacrificed…you were saved.”

Sansa frowned, remembering the way Petyr reacted when the Stranger appeared, his eyes wide and jaw hung open. He was shocked to see him, shocked to see his God finally appearing before his very eyes then the way they all reacted, bowing down to him as though they weren’t worthy. Sansa even thought of what Harry had told her, about how he would make sure it hurt when she was sacrificed and yet…it hadn’t hurt at all.

Because they didn’t get to gut me, she thought, realizing that it was true, the Stranger had saved her. She glanced around again, taking in the cavern then settled her eyes back on his being. “And yet I am here, with you. What is it you truly want from me?”

“I want you…I want your body…I want your soul…I want you, Sansa Stark,” he answered so honestly, his face relaxing in sincerity. Surprisingly she felt a strange reaction to his words, her cheeks flushing warmer than before and peculiar tingles running through her nerves of her hands, arms, legs and feet. Sansa enclosed her hands into fists to fight back the odd feelings in them.

The Stranger licked his lips, drawing her gaze to see how full they were, remembering how warm and soft they were before he turned away from her. He roamed the cavern, not coming too close to her, but seeming lost in his thoughts. Sansa stood in place, keeping her eyes on him in case he did try to rush her or anything of the sort. Septa Mordane had always told her that Gods were tricky, they loved to mess with humans for their own entertainment. As much as humans worshipped them, they still enjoyed poking fun of the beings made in their likeness. The God of Death seemed to embody that meaning, finding her amusing when he smiled and chuckled at her.

“You deserve to be treated like a queen, cared for like a queen, loved,” he paused briefly, turning his sharp eyes upon her, “like a queen. I could do all those things, if only you give yourself to me.”

“That seems too much to be true,” Sansa commented, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You don’t believe me?” he questioned though he didn’t seem shocked, merely amused by her.

“Of course, not! You are the Stranger, bringer of death and plagues like you said! How can I know you are not tricking me, to gain my soul and damn me for all eternity?” He arched an eyebrow at her words, contemplating them silently.

He then moves, so swiftly that before she could react he was upon her, taking a hold of her hand in his. Sansa moved to step back from him, but he held fast, caging her fingers within his as he gazed into her eyes. Up close his eyes were even more entrancing, so dark and red, they were unreal appearing. He called her intoxicating, yet his eyes were the core meaning of that word entirely.

“I saw you the other night, watching me roam the beach…you weren’t afraid when you saw me, you observed me, wondered about me…as I did you. The lone girl, with red hair standing on her balcony, watching me roam during my hour…” He brought her hand up to his face, glancing between her eyes and held hand before pressing a kiss to her knuckles that stole her breath away. “Call it intrigue, call it fascination, call it what you may, but to find you the next night tied to a stake to be sacrificed to me, well…” he shrugged as he brought her hand down, “seemed like divine intervention to me,” he ends with a smirk, finding humor in his words.

Sansa absorbed his words, keeping her hand loosely in his before stating, “So you desire me, you want to rule me, own me. Do what you wish to me as long as I give myself to you? Why must I give myself, why can’t you take?”

“Oh, I can take,” the Stranger commented, suddenly pushing Sansa into the cave wall abruptly though he caught her before she slammed into the stone then he was pressing her upon it, towering over her. “I could easily take, but I don’t want too. Nothing is sweeter than being given something you wish for, taking is too messy, but asking and receiving…that is where trust forms.”

“And you wish to have me trust you. Stranger, trust works both ways.”

He smirks down at her, one arm bent over her head where he towered over her while his other released her hand to swipe away a lock of her hair from her face. “Call me Jon,” he muttered.

Sansa couldn’t help the snort of laughter. Jon? That was such a strange name to call a God of Death. “Sorry, but why Jon?” she asked though he didn’t look offended in the least.

“I’ve formed an attachment to the name,” he replied, waving his free hand; semantics. “Yes, indeed, trust works both ways, so tell me, sweet Sansa.” Jon pulled back from her, giving her much needed space before exaggeratedly bowing before her, “what must I do to gain your trust?”

Sansa watched him for a moment, waiting for him to crack and tell her she was damned for life and there was nothing she could do about it. Instead he stayed bowed, peering up at her with his dark curly hair, blood red eyes and full lips, waiting for her to state whatever it is she wanted to gain his trust. So, Sansa uttered, “take me home.”

“Home?” Jon questioned with an arch of his brow. “Or the hotel?”

“The hotel.”

“As you wish,” he mumbled, snapping his fingers that strangely echoed in her ears loudly, almost drowning out his added, “my queen.”

Sansa blinked and suddenly she wasn’t in a cave anymore, instead she was on the balcony of her room at the hotel. The sun was just rising over the ocean, shining brightly. He did it, he brought me to the hotel, Sansa thought, grasping the railing of the balcony to look over and down at the beach. It was then she noticed she was back in her original clothes with her yellow bikini underneath.

She opened the sliding glass door, entering the room and rushing to the bathroom where she turned the light on to see her hair pulled back as she had done Saturday afternoon with her eyeliner even intact and not running as she was sure it had been before. It was like it had never happened, the night of being captured by Stranger worshippers and even the Stranger himself. Jon, she amended in her mind, he was attached to that name and she wondered why.

Looking over herself, she wondered if all of that had been a dream, a strange alcohol induced dream. Even her cuts, scrapes and bruises were healed away and yet…Sansa knew it wasn’t a dream. It all had happened, it was real…

_“Give yourself to me and we can take vengeance upon them, upon those who had hurt you and willing to kill you for their own benefit.”_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see...Jon's a bit more charming than normal, but he's possessive as hell (as you will see in the third part). I hope y'all like him in this, I did intend to be much darker, but like I said, as I wrote he kind of shifted on me a bit. Also I just like the thought of Jon corrupting Sansa as well, is that wrong of me? Then Harry is a complete asshole, maybe Jon can do something about that?? Really, I just spent over eight hours continuously writing part 1 to part 2 and about to work on part 3, so I am sorry if y'all were expecting mad dark Jon and ultra smut, it's coming but I'm going to have to deny ya that release until the last part (ew...I just make a sex joke, lol).
> 
> Anywho, I hope y'all liked this part and I am still continuously working on the final, so I'm hoping that will be posted tomorrow to end this bout of random inspiration and post chapter three of 'Complete'.
> 
> Let me know whatcha think!? ^_~


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3!!! So excited about posting this chapter! 7K words and...*drum roll* I am not ending it at three chapters! I really like this concept and I think I can extend it to at least 5 or 6 chapters long since I want to explore the characters a bit more. I decided to lengthen this chapter to make up for the fact that I am lengthening the story which I am sure many of you will be happy about (I know I am). 
> 
> But I kept promising smut, so there's a little bit of fun in this chapter to make up for my unfulfilling promises, haha. Also I am posting this raw meaning I haven't read over it completely because I have a massive headache at the moment, so I am sorry for any errors in my writing! I will clean it up tomorrow after work! 
> 
> Enjoy!! ^_~

 

 

Sansa found it was seven in the morning, the sky was clear of the storm last night and the ocean was bluer than ever. She ended up sitting on the plastic chair out on the balcony, staring off into the ocean as her mind went over everything that had happened. Her heart still raced when she thought about the whole ordeal on the beach with Harry and the cult he was apart of, she could still taste the blood in her mouth from her torn lip and the gritty sand too.

It was real, all of that had really happened to me, she thought as she brought up her knees to her chest to wrap her arms around them.

Then Sansa thought about the Stranger, Jon. His easy smiles and smirks as he talked to her, the way he stared at her and his words…’give yourself to me’ and be ‘loved like a queen’. Sansa felt dizzy from remembering everything that was said, and a funny feeling wiggled in her gut, a pleasant wiggling.

Jeyne found her still there when she came down around ten o’clock. “So how was it? Was he easy on you? I told him to be gentle,” her best friend commented excitedly, seating herself on the other plastic chair, facing her.

Sansa looked back at her, confusion wrinkling her brow before she remembered Harry telling her that Jeyne told him to be gentle with her. “Oh no…we didn’t…” I’d never allow it, she thought darkly.

“It’s alright, not everyone is ready right out the door, plus…maybe you shouldn’t jump in bed with the first guy you kiss.” Jeyne reached over to hold Sansa’s hand, giving her an encouraging squeeze. She gave a little smile, it was good advice.

“So, we leave today?” Sansa inquired after they watched the beach fill up with people, towels and umbrellas.

“Actually,” Jeyne started, bouncing in her seat. “My dad said we could spend a few more days here! He even got your dad to agree! Eh!! We’re not leaving until Wednesday!” Sansa tried to smile as brightly as she could for her best friend, but honestly, she just wanted to go home.

“That’s great,” she mumbled half-heartedly, allowing her best friend to fill the air with chatter. Her mind moved back to last night, wondering if she would see the Stranger again, finding him allowing her to leave after reciting how much he wanted her odd.

Was he just messing with me, she wondered? No, he couldn’t have been. Not with eyes like those that saw everything, so intoxicating as they were and strangely inviting. She had only spoken with him then, but even she could tell he liked a challenge. Sansa knew that for a fact, not only from religious history, but because she held the same type of glint in her eyes too when presented with something challenging, something worth working hard towards. Was she his challenge then? To gain her soul and her body, to gain her mind? The thought brought a heated pathway down her chest to warmth her lower stomach. Sansa feared what that meant.

After forcing a muffin down her throat, Sansa took over the shower, hoping it would help take the edge off her while drilling away the phantom aches and pains that she knew were there only last night. The rushing flow of water over her skin was relaxing, easing the anxiety that tensed her muscles so. Still, Sansa felt like she was on the edge of hysteria, one wrong move would plunge into a wild panic and it was making her head throb with bouts of anxiety swelling inside her. The water only helped so much, her breathing was shallow and slightly quick, she didn’t know how to slow it down, so she ignored it and poured a large drop of bodywash on her sponge. She scrubbed away the feelings of last night, rubbing her skin raw in some places while turning the water scorching upon her skin. Yet that warmth in her belly persisted and with the relaxing, hot water tempering her aching muscles another strange sensation came over her.

Sansa liked her lips, her throat suddenly feeling rather dry and parched as that strange sensation started rolling down to the apex of her thighs. She could feel it, heat flowing through pathways and trails down the skin of her arms, as though hands were ghosting over them. It’s the trick of the water, Sansa assured herself though that didn’t stop the throb between her legs as the sensation kept going.

Before she could stop herself, her hands followed behind the phantom touch. Crossing her arms over her chest, she trailed her fingers down, sending shivers to chase after the flow of water down her back. Goosebumps had awakened on her skin as her legs spread further apart. There was a whisper too, in her ear. A deep, dark voice telling her to follow the heat. Sansa gasped with sharp intakes of breath as she obeyed the whisper, rubbing her fingers up her arms then over her chest.

The touch of heat on her breasts was even sweeter than her own touch, encompassing and warm. Her fingers kept with the flow of movement, tweaking her nipples as she went as the whisper pleaded her to do. Sansa felt like she was in a trance, like she was half asleep as she touched herself. It was similar to the feeling of slowly waking but never fully getting there, stuck between slumber and wakefulness. It was tantalizing. The soft press of her palms on her ribs, tracing the bumps as she moved them further down to her soft belly.

Keep going, the whisper demanded, like a hazy spirit looking over her shoulder to watch her, urging her. Sansa had no inclination to deny the request, combing her fingers through the hair on her mound where the heat settled agonizingly at the center of her thighs. Touch yourself, the whisper encouraged, teasing touches of phantom heat made her spread her legs until they her feet were touching each side of the tub. Then like a hand around her wrist, she was seemingly guided to touch the tips of her fingers to her folds.

The mere touch made her whine, quickly planting her other hand against the front wall of the shower to keep her balance. Sansa felt like something was unleashed inside her, never had she truly touched herself before. It had never felt like this when she had tried. Usually she grew too frustrated with the act, losing interest in trying or stuffing a pillow between her legs to find some type of completion and yet here she was, biting down on her lip to keep her loud moans inside as she started to rub at her clit. Pings and jolts of pleasure sung through her veins as she increased the pressure, tightening the circles and groaning through thinly pressed lips. It felt like a hand was over top of hers, guiding her on how to touch herself.

That whisper was practically moaning in her ear, speaking her name like the soft caress of the wind on her skin, all while she rubbed harder and harder at her clit, sweeping and circling her fingers against and around the fleshy nub. Her thighs quivered as her orgasm built up in her lower abdomen. Sansa was incased in heat, not from the water that was slowly becoming lukewarm, no it was the heat of a body, wrapped around her, embracingly. Sansa gasped for air, her eyes tightly shut to the world while her fingers brought her closer and closer to peaking. She was just on the tip of the ice berg, readying to jump the cliff when she opened her eyes.

Black and red.

Sansa choked back a scream, stumbling back against the back wall of the shower yet her fingers continued to torment her clit into submission, pressing down harder and harder against her nub. Those eyes were all she could see, staring at her, observing her, aching for her. Sansa moaned as she crested over, rutting her hips into her burning hand, her legs no longer having the will to hold her, she slid down to the shower floor; the little rubber circles stalling her descent every few inches. By the time she was able to truly catch her breath, she was laying in the tub, cool water sprinkling over her with her aching, burning hand settled on her thigh, all while she came down from the most intense orgasm she had ever had before.

It took her several minutes to compose herself enough to get up from the tub floor, by then the water was icy cold and Jeyne was banging on the door, asking her if she was done yet. Sansa turned off the shower, wrapping a hotel towel around her body before all but dropping on top of the toilet seat with her head in her hands. Her body shook uncontrollably as she tried to comprehend what had exactly happened. She knew she was masturbating, but it was like something else was helping her along.

Not something else, someone else.

Sansa lifted her head to stare hard at the shower, but there was nothing strange or ominous about it, at least not anymore. It was him, the Stranger; Jon. She didn’t know how he did it though. Magic perhaps, considering the only time he could leave his domain was during the Stranger’s hour between three am to four am, if her memory served her right, that was when the lines between the worlds was thinnest. If he could snap his fingers and bring her back to the hotel as though she had never been harmed at all then it was plausible that he could do…what he did from his domain, right?

Or she was going crazy, that was a plausible theory as well. Sansa bit back a groan before forcing herself to stand and finish drying off.

Though she wished for nothing more than to curl up into a ball and sleep the day away, Jeyne begged her to join them on the boardwalk again, wishing to find souvenirs to remind them of this wonderful trip. She felt ‘wonderful’ did not echo her sediments of this trip, but she relented, wishing to not worry her best friend anymore than she clearly had. Jeyne was a fidgetier when she worried, fiddling with any jewelry on her wrists or fingers, flipping her phone forwards and backwards in her hands and producing loose strings on her clothes from picking at the fabric. Even now her best friend was twirling her promise ring as she eyed Sansa over.

She decided to do her best to not justify Jeyne’s worries, it was already hard enough for her to come to terms with everything, it was hardly an option to tell her best friend the whole ordeal without sounding crazy. So, Sansa kept everything to herself, hoping the stroll down the boardwalk and mindless rummaging through expensive shops would help to keep her mind off everything.

She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy…

As they strolled the boardwalk, every glance towards the beach sent shivers down her spine. Sansa got Beth to walk on the other side of Jeyne, nearest the beach just so she could avoid touching the sand. I might not be able to walk the beach at all now, Sansa thought fearfully, a bubbling burn of anger directed towards Harry came over her as well. If it hadn’t been for him then she could still enjoy the beach and sand, now she could hardly touch it without fearing that she’d be dragged to a bonfire with sweet smelling dust and chanting rituals. Even the shouts and chatter of the people on the beach put her on edge, reminiscent of the loud chanting cult members.

It got to the point that midway through their walk, Sansa had to go into the bathroom of a restaurant, so she could breath properly. She looked mighty pale in the mirror’s reflection and sweat was dappled on her forehead and neck that wasn’t entirely due to the heat of the sun overhead. Her breathing was shallow, and it felt like she couldn’t catch her breath and that scared her more than anything. You’re okay, she reminded herself, just breathe slowly, you’re okay.

She turned on the facet, making sure it was cold water as she cupped her hands under the flow before splashing it on her face. The cold water helped to center her thoughts and focus on her breathing. Opening her eyes, she blinked several times in the dim lighting of the bathroom, staring at her reflection. That happy innocent glow she had before last night was gone, it was like she was an entirely different person now. I am, Sansa reflected solemnly, I’m completely different, changed and not myself anymore. Briefly, she wondered if that was such a bad thing though?

Sansa could admit she tended to be too trusting of others, too open with her thoughts and feelings, and though she was seen as smart for her school performances, she felt rather stupid for now seeing the signs of falsehood in Harry and his friends. The glint in his eyes that she could remember so clearly when he looked at her, like she was a piece of meat, a lovely sacrifice. The feeling of a tear leaving the watery line in her eyes made her anger, she wiped harshly at the tear, glaring at her reflection.

Crying over it wasn’t going to help, she needed to be logical and strong. Jon had said she was strong, and if she thought about it, she had been strong throughout the whole situation. Sansa had consistently fought when she could, thinking logically and still trying to fight when she knew it was hopeless. She took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds then released it and with it she tried to release the anxiety and fear. She would not allow these emotions to overwhelm her, nor take over her entirely. I am strong, she asserted to herself.

Sansa then patted her cheeks and neck of water, pulling her hair up into a ponytail to get it out of the way before she exited the restroom, she couldn’t leave her friends waiting forever.

When she came outside though, that’s when the real trouble came.

“Really? No, it’s fine, I just wanted to make sure she got up to her room alright. We did drink a lot.” Sansa stalled at the entrance to the restaurant as she pinpointed Jeyne and Beth, but what stopped her entirely was hearing his voice again.

“She was awake on the balcony when I returned to our room, oh there she is now!” Jeyne commented then waved at Sansa. There stood Harry, dressed impeccably with his hair pushed back by a pair of sunglasses, watching her with slightly widen eyes.

Her first thought was to turn around and run as fast as she could, her heart jumped into a pounding rhythm as sweat formed on her skin. It took immense willpower to hold back her fight or flight instinct upon seeing him, so much so that she was feeling a bit dizzy. She glanced over to see Jeyne and Beth watching her with confusion, Jeyne waving her over with her brow arched.

She curled her finger into her palms and reluctantly, she approached them, pursing her lips together and eyeing Harry over as he looked at her curiously. It was almost like he was innocent, but no, she could see that his curiosity was more than seeing her alive. She wished he’d keep his eyes to himself, actually she wished he wasn’t here at all. Half of her wanted to scream at him while the other half…the other half wanted nothing more than to kick him to the ground, climb over him and wrap her hands around his throat and choke him until he was blue in the face.

Actually, not even until then, Sansa realized in shock that she could easily continue choking him up to his last breath. It scared her at how only half shaken she was from the realization of her dark thoughts. What was wrong with her?

“Hey, I was worried about you last night. But I’m glad to see I worried for nothing, you must have slept pretty damn hard though,” Harry commented with a laugh. Jeyne joined in, leaning over to bump shoulders with Sansa though she was so stiff she barely moved.

“Well she had the whole room to herself, so she probably slept like a dream without my snoring!” Jeyne added jokingly, Beth chiming in to comment about the snoring they endured at sleepovers. Sansa felt withdrawn though, like a bystander watching from the outside.

And Harry staring at her so intently only made it worse. With a deep breath to keep her strong and brave, Sansa lifted her eyes to bore a hard stare into his. He arched a brow, eyes narrowing at the inside corners where his nose crinkled. Her nails turned inward and bit into the flesh of her palms as she held back the urge to call him horrible names, names that he deserved to be called and known by.

“Sansa, do you think we could talk privately for a moment?” Harry inquired a moment later, glancing at her friends before turning that false charming smile on her. How had she ever thought it was charming in the first place and his dimples so cute?

She opened her mouth to say, ‘hell no’, but Jeyne beat her to it. “Oh yes, Beth! Let’s go check out that little shop over there!” Sansa watched as her friends quickly ran off, but not before giving her raised eyebrows and smiling mouths of encouragement.

She really wished they hadn’t left her alone with him. Sansa opted to not say anything, taking a good step back from him and crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded him with narrowed eyes. Harry watched her silently before sighing deeply and placing his hands into his short’s pockets, acting as though she was the problem.

“I came around to see how your friends were fairing with you missing, so I’m pretty damn surprised you’re here at all.” Alive, he was surprised that she was still alive, Sansa thought bitterly. She dug her nails into her arms as a form of restrain. “What happened, Sansa?”

“Stay away from me, Harry or I will call the police on you and your cult freak friends,” Sansa finally hissed instead. He only smirked though then shrugged his shoulders carelessly.

“Go ahead then, I mean who do you think Petyr is? He’s head of investigations for the White Harbor police. Had your friends reported you missing, it would have went right to him and he could just hush it away like all the others.” Sansa’s jaw dropped as the feeling of ice washed over her head. For a moment she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Yet she felt she shouldn’t be so shocked, it made sense they would have someone with the police, a way for them to hide their nefarious deeds and with White Harbor being such a busy and tourist attraction area, well it wasn’t hard to believe that a random missing girl would be swept under the rug. Especially if it only happened once every year.

“You are disgusting, you and your cult! Do you know who my father is?! He’s Eddard Stark, councilmen of Winterfell and all it will take is me telling him about your cult and the missing girls and-” Harry grabbed a hold of Sansa’s arm, yanking up into his chest. No one seemed to notice as they were shaded by the restaurant’s awning.

“You listen to me, you selfish little bitch! I’d watch myself if I were you. The Stranger brought you back so clearly you weren’t worth his time and if you’re not careful, we’ll come back for you. I fucking promise you that, Sansa Stark,” Harry bit out darkly, his heated breath washing over her face and making her gag. His fingers were gripping her forearm so tightly, there was sure to be a bruise once he removed them.

“You’re hurting me,” she mumbled, pushing at his chest as his fingers only seemed to dig deeper into her skin.

“I’ll do more than just bruise you,” he assured, leaning ever closer and crowding over her. Anger burst inside her chest, that dark wish of wanting to choke the life out of him came over her.

“Unhand me, or I will scream,” Sansa stated darkly, boring her hard stare into his eyes. He smirked though then released her forcefully that she faltered in her steps, only barely catching herself on a chair to keep from hitting the ground.

“Watch yourself,” he repeated before turning away from her and heading down the boardwalk.

Sansa’s heart was rapidly pounding in her chest at their altercation as tears welled up in her eyes. She kept a watch on Harry’s retreating form until he fell out of sight after turning a corner, only then did her heart start to slow down though the anxiety remained. Strangely, her first thought was to call for Jon to help her. As scary as the God of Death was, he hadn’t harmed her, even when he was trying to scare her, he hadn’t allowed any harm to come to her.

Yet Harry was right, he did let her go. I asked for it though, she remembered, I asked him to take me back to the hotel and he did, to show a form of trust. Sansa pushed back those thoughts though, there were bigger issues that needed her attention, like the threat Harry posed to her. The thought of them taking her again was almost enough to cause her to crumple to the ground as her legs quivered heavily.

“Are you okay, miss?” a waitress asked cautiously, eyeing her over.

“I’m fine.” Sansa waved her off quickly, forcing her legs to move though she felt disjointed as though her bones were bending in the wrong directions.

She managed to get to the shop Beth and Jeyne went into, finding the girls looking over beach jewelry made from shells and shark teeth. She mumbled their names and Jeyne looked up, aiming to show her a necklace she was holding only to drop it with wide eyes. “Are you okay?! You look like you’re going to be sick!”

Sansa decided against playing it off, asking them to help escort her back to their hotel. She did lie though, telling them that she had eaten something that wasn’t agreeing with her stomach, successfully keeping herself from having to walk on the beach later that afternoon as well. She felt restless though, pacing around the room, going out to the balcony for fresh air and even watching tv had lost its appeal as her mind kept running over and over the events of yesterday.

She ate a late dinner, pushing her friends to go out for dinner like they wanted for fear that she would see Harry again, or maybe Petyr or recognize any of the cult followers from that night. Sansa wasn’t sure how’d she handle that situation so she opted to not place herself to find out, and so she ate some room service while trying to watch tv. Eventually she fell into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning, kicking the blanket off then pulling it back over her.

At some point Sansa fell asleep, but it wasn’t long before nightmares came for her and with a gasping breath she bolted up right in her bed. She peered over at the alarm clock to see the time: three am.

Hair prickled the back of her neck, like eyes on her being. Sansa turned towards the balcony, the urge to step out coming over her. She glanced over to see Jeyne in her bed, possibly there incase Sansa needed her. She briefly smiled at her best friend before getting out of bed and heading over to the sliding glass door. Her hand hesitated at the lock, wondering if she should step out there or not.

_“I saw you the other night, watching me roam the beach…you weren’t afraid when you saw me, you observed me, wondered about me…as I did you. The lone girl, with red hair standing on her balcony, watching me roam during my hour…”_

Would he be out there now, waiting to see me, she wondered? His unique eyes came to her mind, remembering seeing them in the shower that morning. Heat bloomed in the bottom of her belly, she paused at the feeling, again wondering why she was reacting this way. There was also a sense of anticipation, Sansa wanted to see him again especially after what Harry had said to her. She knew he couldn’t be right about Jon, he sent her back to gain her trust because he said he wanted her.

Right?

Sansa squared her shoulders then flipped the lock on the door before sliding it aside enough to step through and close the door behind her. She looked around the small balcony to only see the plastic chairs and nothing else. She looked towards the bright moon, waning from the full moon yesterday. Cautiously she placed her hands on the railing then with a deep breath she leaned over to peer down at the beach below, looking everywhere to see if she could find him.

Disappointment echoed inside her bones when there appeared to be no one out there. Sansa frowned sadly, her shoulders slumping as she realized maybe Harry had been right, that Jon brought her back because she wasn’t worth his time. He only wanted my body, to give myself to him, why did I think he cared otherwise?

“Why so blue?”

Sansa jumped at the dark voice, spinning around to see Jon perched on the plastic chair against the back wall, half shaded in the dark. He was dressed much the same, with his ankle settled on his other knee, hands relaxed in his lap while his dark eyes stared her down. There was also a smirk on his lips as he watched her.

“You’re here,” Sansa noted, failing to hide her surprise. He shrugged his shoulders, his lips lifting to reveal the top row of his teeth.

“Well clearly you were expecting me, or were you searching for someone else down there?” he asked with a tilt of his head down towards the beach.

Sansa scoffed. “How sure are you that I was expecting you? That’s mighty arrogant to think.” Jon chuckled lightly.

“I like to think of myself as confident really, arrogance is for assholes. Regardless, you were looking for me, so does that mean you have thought about my offer?” Jon sat up in the chair, his feet planted on the ground. Sansa bit her lip then shook her head.

“No, not really, I’m…” she drifted off, drawing her eyes back towards the beach.

“You’re traumatized,” Jon stated.

“I’m trying to figure things out,” Sansa countered quickly, glancing back at him to see a dark frown on his lips.

“What is there to figure out? You stare at the beach like it’s a monster ready to devour you, I thought cleaning you up would help…” Sansa turned away from the beach to lean back against the railing and peer over at him.

“It did help,” she admitted. “I didn’t have to explain anything to my friends, but it…made it harder to believe it was real too, I guess. I dunno what I’m saying anymore, it’s like I’m okay one moment than the next I can’t breathe right then you…” Sansa paused as she remembered that morning again. “You were in the shower with me.”

“I can’t leave my world until my hour,” Jon answered offhand, but it was the way he stared at her with those dark eyes that spoke different. He had been there, guiding her, touching her. He was the whisper in her ear, Sansa knew it.

Anger simmered underneath her skin, but another type of heat boiled between her thighs. She didn’t like that she enjoyed his attentions in such an invasive way. Even now with the air cool and the winds blowing, his heated stare going over her loose grey tank and cotton shorts. Sansa licked at her dry lips, not missing how his eyes drew in at the sliver of her pink tongue poking out.

“You want to build trust between us then don’t lie to me, Jon.” He smiled at the use of his favored name, his eyes lighting up in their intensity.

“Alright, alright,” he mumbled, shifting in his seat momentarily before continuing, “so, I might have possibly been viewing in, but I wasn’t physically there.”

Goosebumps came over her arms and legs, causing Sansa to rub up and down her arms. “That’s a major invasion of privacy! You-You made me…touch myself,” Sansa stuttered as her cheeks flamed, the color running down her neck towards her visible chest. Jon seemed to find that very interesting as his eyes followed the flow of her flush.

“I did not make you do anything, I persuaded you to find pleasure in your body and you decided to go with it. There was never a point where you couldn’t stop yourself, get out of the shower and leave,” he pointed out, pushing up from the chair to stand and approach the railing. He folded his arms over the railing and peered down though she knew his eyes were still watching her.

“Why?”

“Why?” Jon repeated, arching a dark brow. He turned to lean on his side, so he could direct his stare on her. Sansa suppressed a shiver at the way he watched her with those dark, intoxicating eyes. “You were anxious, could barely catch your breath and getting ready to hyperventilate. I just helped you find a better release for your trauma is all, though I won’t lie and say I didn’t get anything out of it, I most certainly did. But it was for you,” he asserted at the end, his face showing that sincerity of his.

“But why? Why help me at all?” Sansa questioned, still feeling so confused. If he only wanted her body then there was no need for him to care about her mind, her feelings. She was pretty sure her soul would be fine even if tainted by trauma.

“Because…I…care,” he stated slowly, giving a laugh of disbelief at her surprise. “Damn, Sansa, I told you I want you entirely. I want you to be my queen, what is there not to understand?”

Sansa breathed a shuddering breath, gripping the railing behind her for support as her legs started to shake. That falsehood she found with Harry was nowhere to be seen on Jon’s face and that probably scared her more than anything else. The intensity of his feelings, his wants, it was so overwhelming and yet Sansa enjoyed the way they made her feel. Never had there been a man or boy that made her feel so wanted and desired.

Well she had been desired before, but that mostly had to do with her long legs and the rest of her body, not for herself. She wondered if he was manipulating her, but it was hard to come off as sincere as he did, and he admitted he got something out of helping her, proving he was being truthful. Jon also wanted to form trust with her, he wanted her to willingly give herself to him and he admitted to not wanting to take because as he said it wasn’t as sweet as being given something you wanted.

Conflicting feelings aside, Jon was passively looking out for her mental state and that was touching even if he went about it the wrong way.

“Thank you,” she whispered softly, giving him a small, grateful smile.

“Does that mean what I think it means?” he asked with a toothy smirk, immediately she rolled her eyes.

“No, it doesn’t mean that, but it does mean I am starting to trust you.” His face never fell, he didn’t look disappointed or angry, Jon still smirked at her and his shoulders were still laxed. It was nice to see that she didn’t offend him or anger him by denying him what he wanted.

Sansa could still remember Joffrey telling Meryn to pop her in the mouth for telling him ‘no’, the displeased snare in his lips and anger in his eyes. It made her hate saying ‘no’ even when it didn’t resort to physical harm, just seeing utter disappointment pulled at her to say ‘yes’ even when she didn’t want too. Seeing Jon act as though he had no care in the world that she said ‘no’ to giving herself to him was immensely nice and eased the anxiety that was building when she told him that.

“Aye, trust is good.” He drew his eyes back down to the beach, the waves softly cresting to the shore. Sansa felt mournful as she followed his gaze to the sand, wishing she could enjoy it again without feeling fear. “Would you like to walk on the beach with me?”

Sansa whipped her head back to him with wide eyes. “What?”

“I said, would you like to walk the beach with me?” Jon repeated with a dark chuckle, lifting his hand towards her with his palm up, waiting for her to take it. Sansa stared at his hand then back to his eyes then averted towards the beach again.

“I dunno if I can…” she admitted with a shallow swallow in her dry throat. The thought of touching the sand sent shivers down her spine and fear gurgling in her stomach.

“The only way you can get over your fear is if you conqueror it, let me help you, Sansa.” His palm stayed hanging out for her to grasp, wiggling his fingers as though that would make it more appealing for her. “Trust me,” he added, his smile softening.

“Okay.” Sansa sucked in some air then placed her hand on his palm, feeling his warm hand close around it before he was tugging her forward into his chest, she tugged her hand free to grip his shoulders in annoyance, glaring up at him.

Jon chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her pinned to him before snapping his fingers. She felt like she merely blinked, and they were on the beach though Jon held her effortlessly higher, so her feet had not touched the sand, it also helped he was so much taller than herself. Sansa looked back up towards the balcony where they had been then over to the ocean where the waves lapped at the shoreline.

“Do you think you can handle touching the sand? I mean I could easily carry you down the beach, if you prefer?” Jon questioned with an amused arch of his brow.

“I can walk,” Sansa asserted, gasping when he started to lower her to the ground.

“Are you sure?” he said it in jest, but his eyes were serious. Seeing them so up close, they were less scary than they originally had been. The black was all consuming, no whites of his eyes to be seen, but the red was pretty, almost the color of blood but it was sparse with a lighter color through the different lines of his iris. It was grey, she realized, mixed with the red. From far away it wasn’t noticeable, but up close she could make them out clearly. “Sansa?”

“I’ll be fine.” With that said, Jon lowered her until her feet touched the soft, cold sand. Her heart skipped a beat, starting to pound inside her chest but the reassuring touch of his hands on her waist helped to keep the anxiety away.

When he moved to take his hands back, Sansa quickly snatched his arm, locking it through hers reminiscent of the old way women were escorted by men. Jon chuckled at her but allowed her to hold on to him before he led them down the beach. He didn’t say anything though, just let the quiet breeze flow between them and the crunching sound of sand beneath their feet. It took Sansa a moment to realize his boots were missing, revealing large male feet beside her slim feminine ones.

The walk was oddly nice, calming and relaxing. It still took several minutes before her heart would slow down to an easy rhythm, and even longer for her to stop looking over her shoulder as she expected to find Harry or some hooded cult member chasing after her. As the minutes went by and the more her mind settled, the more she wondered of her companion, the God of Death, the Stranger; Jon.

There was still something that she wanted to know, a little thought that still poked at her brain, wishing to be voiced.

“I know I asked this already and I know you answered before, but truly…why did you save me?” Sansa voiced her question, avoiding looking up at him because she wanted his words, not his expressions. Jon sighed deeply, not so much like he was annoyed by her question, maybe a bit frustrated, but it was more thoughtful, in her opinion.

“I was walking the beach, minding my business and enjoying the human world for the time I have on it and I felt your stare on my back,” Jon paused for a moment, possibly in thought before continuing, “it was light, intriguing and I thought of scaring you, to find myself some amusement but when I turned to see whose eyes were on me and I found you. Your hair shined like fire in the night, flowing with the wind, I almost tripped at the sight.” Sansa giggled as he chuckled. “My eyes are far superior to humans, I could see your blue eyes, the freckles on your face and shoulders. You looked curious down at me, even more so when I looked at you.”

Sansa brought up that night to her mind, remembering how she watched him for a bit, her heart skipping a beat when he turned to look at her for a few minutes then watching Jon continue to walk down the beach and out of sight. It was strange to think that the next night he would save her from death, ironically from going to him through murder and learn he was the same person she watched on the beach at three in the morning.

“You were beautiful that night and you stayed on my mind the next night when I roamed the beach and heard the chants. You were still breathtaking then, though…I hated seeing the fear in your eyes. Eyes like yours should never look the way they did that night,” Jon stated darkly, halting their walk altogether to stare down at her. Sansa peered up to him to see the way his face scrunched in his rage, to see his dark eyes look even darker, to feel that his rage was because she had been so scared, so afraid to die.

“I thought you were there to kill me, for you to take me as your gifted virgin sacrifice.” Jon grunted at her words, she could feel him slightly shaking from their linked arms. “I don’t fear you now though,” she added quickly in hopes of soothing his anger.

“I never, never want you to fear me,” he said quietly, letting go of her arm to turn fully towards her. “I will never willingly harm you, Sansa.”

Sansa’s heart seemed to fill and beat rapid at his vow, funny little flutters erupted inside her stomach and she felt so consumed by his gaze, his dark, intoxicating eyes. She nodded her head that she understood him then Jon was there, pulling her to him with a hand on the back of her waist and the other tilting her head up to face him. Sansa managed a whimper of his name before his lips pressed down upon hers, molding and fusing together. His thumb rubbed back and forth over her cheek as his tongue swept across her lips, she didn’t even think about it, opening her mouth to his.

The sweet tangle of his tongue around hers, warring and loving against one another. Sansa moaned into Jon’s mouth, gripping the fabric of his trench coat as her toes curled in the cold sand. The kiss was amazing, the claiming of her mouth from him and the feel of his beard rubbing her skin, it was all just perfectly amazing. Quickly, she came to realize she could do this forever, kiss him forever. Yet Sansa couldn’t, and she pulled back to catch her breath, Jon groaning at the release of his kiss, moving to press another to her cheek then moving up to press another against her ear where he breathed out, “I want you so much.”

She whined at the deep baritone of his voice in her ear, clawing her fingers in his trench coat. She felt so hot all over, counteracting against the cold of her feet on the sand. Jon continued to press lingering kisses on her skin, following along her jawline then down the slope of her neck where he added the scrape of his teeth. His hand brushed back her long, auburn hair, twisting and tugging against her scalp. Everything he did was just lovely and amazing, Sansa could feel herself giving in to him, feel the words on the tip of her tongue…

But she couldn’t.

Sansa reached up to tug at his head, pulling him back so she could look into his eyes. She glanced down at his lips, seeing how much fuller they looked from kissing her. She almost pulled his lips back on hers, but she held strong, resisting her baser needs.

“My feet are cold, Jon,” Sansa finally said, giving him a meaningful look. He blinked in confusion before it clicked into his head and he nodded.

“Aye, it’s late and I need to be going too,” he agreed, still no disappointment to be seen. His arms came around her again and with a snap of his fingers they were back on the balcony, even the sand on her feet was gone. “I must leave you now.”

“Um will…will I see you tomorrow at three?” Sansa asked curiously, twining her fingers together nervously. Jon watched for a minute, taking note of her hands to the point that she stilled them before their eyes connected again. A slow smile came to his lips and he did the same dramatic bow from the first time they met, taking her hand in his as he looked up to her with his brows raised up, crinkling his forehead.

“Nothing could keep me away,” he answered softly, pressing a kiss to her knuckles then once more a blink of her eyes and he was gone, like dust in the wind.

Sansa stared at the empty spot for a moment then brought her kissed knuckles up to her face, pressing her lips at the same spot he had. She swore she could still feel the heat of his lips there and maybe she could, he was magical. Her heart thumped gently in her chest and she felt so at ease and at peace, yet anticipation swirled in her veins.

Truly, she couldn’t wait to see him again and honestly, that scared her more than Harry and his cult buddies ever had…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Sansa is dealing with some trauma after the whole cult sacrifice ordeal, which I wanted to explore more because there's no way she doesn't have anxiety and issues after that whole thing, that was another reason for extending the story. Petyr works for the police, hence why there's no reported connection between the girls dying and Harry's an ass, but what else is new? Then of course, the best part of all of this was Jon!! He's really fun to write in this since he's a different kind of Jon, so I hope y'all are happy to see him again, so soon!
> 
> I wanted to show that Jon does actually like her, never mind that he wants her and desires her, but he does care for her. Like he told Sansa, I saved you from certain death and it may come out shallow and superficial as seeing her on the balcony and liking what he saw then seeing her again on a stake to be sacrificed, but most romances start with liking someone superficially in the beginning before finding grounded knowledge of the person to like even more. That's why this story is getting stretched out some more, plus it's just really fun to write! Anywho, my heads pounding like a beating drum, so please let me know whatcha think!? ^_~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, finally an update!!! I know right?!! So, I seriously got stuck on this chapter, mostly because I wasn't sure how I was going to continue the story because things kind of changed a bit for me. But I finally have a somewhat stable storyline going with ideas, hence I don't actually know when this story will actually end (at this point). Anywho, this chapter is definitely all about that plot I developed! I hope y'all are excited for this update, cause I am happy to finally get it done! 
> 
> Enjoy!! ^_~

 

 

Sansa fell asleep rather smoothly after Jon had left, she had no dreams to speak of when she woke at seven that morning. Jeyne was snoring lightly in her bed; her hair was wild while she slept on her stomach with her face buried into her pillow. Sansa smiled at her best friend. She got up, fixing up her hair in the bathroom into a pulled back French braid before changing into a tank top and shorts.

She figured she’d go down and get some breakfast from the restaurant inside the hotel. She poked at Jeyne, trying to get a straight answer out of her, but she waved Sansa off, mumbling incoherent words in her slumber. Sansa shrugged, leaving their hotel room and heading down to the small restaurant.

She found a seat at one of the big windows that gave her a view of the boardwalk. Sansa ordered some French toast with hash browns on the side and orange juice to drink. She looked through her phone as she waited, bringing up news of missing girls in the area for the last couple of years. She only encountered three missing persons reports that corresponded with what she was looking for. All three were girls of varying ages between fifteen to nineteen.

Her stomach grumbled uncomfortably as Sansa looked over the pictures of the missing girls. She could only imagine the fear and pain they had gone through before their deaths. Sansa closed her eyes for a moment, trying to will away the memories of that night. It still felt so surreal like a horrible dream that hit a little too close to home, but it wasn’t a dream at all. After her encounter with Harry, she was determined to find out more about the missing girls and about the cult as well.

Sansa spent her breakfast picking at her food and reading up on cults in the area. She found out the name of the cult that Harry was apart of, ‘Shadows of the Stranger’. They even had a website. Sansa felt even sicker as she looked through the webpage on her phone, reading how they worshipped the Stranger and wished to enlighten those of other religions. They called themselves a religion, but they were a cult. She wasn’t at all surprised that they didn’t state how they did human sacrifice every year. Instead, she came across information about initiation rituals to see how truly committed initiates were to the religion.

The more she read, the worse she felt. Finally, Sansa closed out of the webpage before setting aside her breakfast as well. They were sick and depraved. Calling their cult, a religion while taking the lives of innocent girls. Thoughts of turning them in came to her, but she halted them as quickly as they came. Harry said their leader, Petyr was a cop and even if she did go to the police then what could she say? Everything would be taken at face value then Petyr would drop any real investigation before anything was found and then where would that lead her?

They’d come after her again, and they’d finish the job too. Sansa shuddered at the thought. She got up, paying for her breakfast before leaving the restaurant and hotel. The sun was already blazing overhead, Sansa took a deep breath, sucking in the salty air. Her eyes drifted back over to the beach, her cheeks warming further as she remembered last night with Jon. She had such mixed feelings about the God of Death.

She found him intriguing and there was this allure that she couldn’t help but feel towards him. Yet he was the Stranger with a cult following that sacrificed young virgin girls to him and he did nothing to stop it. Half of Sansa knew that he couldn’t go around avenging these young girls, but the other half was disappointed that he didn’t seem to care either. He’s a God, why should he care, she thought with an eye roll.

He cares about me though.

That was another thing that confused and confounded her. Jon told her of how he felt that first night they saw each other. The attraction was there, no doubt about it, but it left her feeling excited and fearful. What would he do if she rejected him? What would he do if she accepted him? Sansa wasn’t even sure if Jon truly wanted her or her virginity. Then there was something else that bothered her, something more personal.

Insecurity.

What was it about her that drew him in? He told her it was because she was beautiful, and she had not feared him that first night, but what else? Sansa didn’t think she was anyone special, nor did she want to be considered as such either. She didn’t mind being like any other girl, enjoyed it actually. There was too much work to be had when one was considered special and all, work to continue to be that way or seen that way. Sansa was perfectly happy with being normal, there was never anything wrong with being normal, right?

Glancing about, she realized she had walked further down the boardwalk. She looked at the little shops and restaurants around her then noticed the White Harbor Police Station across the road near the courthouse. Her heart started to hammer, wondering if she should go there and say something. The thought brought her fear, knowing that it would draw attention to her from the cult, but the Stark in her sorely believed in doing what was right. Her father always told her to do the right thing even when you are scared.

Gathering her courage, Sansa proceeded across the road towards the courthouse then she walked down the sidewalk towards the police station. The only time one can be brave is when one is scared, Sansa reminded herself. She stopped right at the steps leading up to the station, taking in the white, sand blasted stone. She noted a few officers lingering about, one or two glanced at her, but no one approached her.

What was she going to say anyway? There’s a crazy cult in White Harbor murdering young girls in sacrifice to the Stranger. Would they even believe her?

“Sansa Stark?” Sansa flinched at the sound of her name, recognizing that scratchy, deep voice. A shudder ran down her spine as she slowly turned around to see Petyr, the leader of the cult ‘Shadows of the Stranger’. “It is you, Harry mentioned coming across you yesterday.”

“Stay away from me,” Sansa practically whimpered, backing up a step only to stumble back and land on her butt on the steps of the police station. Petyr frowned, walking right up to her and holding out a hand to help her up.

“You have nothing to fear, my dear,” he announced, his slimy thin smile did nothing to assure her like he thought it did.

Sansa used the railing on the stone wall lining the stairs to pull herself up and then up two steps to be taller than him though really, she didn’t have to go so far, she was practically taller than him on level ground. “Nothing to fear? You tried to sacrifice me to the God of Death,” she hissed, raising her voice.

“Will you keep your voice down before I escort you to a cell!” Sansa pursed her lips together at the threat he voiced. Petyr smirked at her reaction, glancing at the few officers standing around, giving them a wink. She turned to see some of them smiling with nods and she immediately felt sick to her stomach. “Why don’t you come with me to my office and we can discuss this like adults, hmm?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Sansa asserted, her fingers gripping tightly at the railing. What was she thinking coming here? She feared encountering this crazy man and now here she was, and it seemed no one was going to help her if she started screaming for it.

“Now, now, no need to feel scared with me, Sansa. I’m your friend at this point,” Petyr stated softly as though he were coxing a small animal towards him.

“Do you think I’m slow or daft? You’re not my friend and I am not going anyway with you.” Petyr narrowed his eyes then took another step up towards her.

“Come with me to my office, or you will regret it,” Petyr said darkly. He approached her swiftly, taking a hold of her arm and tugging her up the steps. Sansa tried to stall her movements, but a glance to the officers watching them intently told her that they’d only make things harder on her and not him.

The station was relatively quiet with only a few officers lingering about. Many greeted Petyr brightly and he in return, still gripping her upper arm and leading her behind the front counter towards the back offices. He quickly unlocked his door with one hand then pulled her into his office and shut the door behind him. Sansa stood stock-still, her heart beating so fast she thought it might burst from her chest. Petyr ignored her, walking around to seat himself at his large mahogany desk.

His office was sparsely decorated with very few, if any personal items of his own. No family pictures, hardly anything to make the room warm and friendly, and only a prickly dying cactus by the lone window. Her eyes drew down to his desk to see his name ‘Petyr Baelish’ facing outward. Sansa fidgeted where she stood, wanting nothing more than to turn around and race out of there.

“Please Miss Stark, have a seat. Make yourself comfortable,” Petyr persuaded, waving a hand towards one of two seats before his desk. There was no way she’d ever be comfortable here, actually, she might not ever be comfortable in White Harbor again.

Slowly, Sansa seated herself, knowing that if she did try to run that she’d be place in a holding cell instead. Petyr seemed happy with this development, slowly threading his fingers together as he watched her over them with attentive eyes. “What do you want from me?” Sansa finally asked, her voice sounding small. She sat on just the edge of the seat, ready to jump into action if need be.

“What is he like?” Petyr asked, ignoring her question and yet answering it at the same time. He wants to know about Jon, she thought, curling her hands into fists in her lap.

Petyr sat there, waiting ever so patiently for her to speak. She dug her fingers underneath the edge of her shorts to keep from fidgeting. He made her so nervous and he was unpredictable too. Sansa gathered her thoughts slowly, averting her eyes down to her feet, hoping he took this to be her being afraid of Jon rather than him.

“He’s…dark, tall and menacing,” she answered, giving him false truths. Jon was intense, passionate, and clever, but she’d never tell Petyr what he was truly like. This crazed man didn’t deserve to know what Jon was like at all.

“Why did not keep you? I am assuming he took liberties.” His eyes seemed to darken in glee, rolling over her being and making Sansa want to shrink into a tiny ball. Her face flushed at the fact that Petyr assumed Jon had raped her, an assumption that wasn’t all that misleading considering he had taken her from them, but it left a bad taste in her mouth because she knew he would never do such a thing.

He wanted her to give herself to him fully and completely, raping her would defeat the point, but again, Petyr did not know that.

“He did…I guess I was…lacking for him.” Sansa swallowed thickly in her throat, hating the lies she were spewing from her mouth.

“I’m sorry to hear that, my dear. I found you rather unlacking really. You’re beautiful and so innocent, I would never have tossed you away like that.” It was like Petyr thought his compliments meant something to her; they didn’t. They sickened her, made her angry.

“If you find me so unlacking then why did you tie me up and try to sacrifice me?” Sansa inquired heatedly, her hands moving to grip the arms of the chair. He sat back, unsurprised by the venom in her voice.

“I’m a leader of a religion, my dear. I must make hard decisions each and every day. Be it here, at my workplace, or out there with my fellow followers. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made. Sometimes one is in the wrong place at the wrong time, but you should consider yourself lucky, truly. No other girl has ever been chosen by the Stranger such as you, even if he tossed you aside afterwards.” The way he was looking at her, the way he spoke, it all made her fearful for her life. They were crazy, and somebody had to stop them before more lives were taken.

“You’re crazy,” Sansa stated. Petyr merely shook his head, giving a slow blink and a sly smile.

“We’re all crazy here, sweetling, remember that as you go out into the world.”

“I’ll tell the world about you and your cult, you won’t get away with killing these innocent girls anymore,” Sansa vowed, standing up abruptly in her rage. Petyr stood up as well though much more calmly, smirk in place and eyes glinting with the challenge she presented.

“I’d like to see you try, little girl. Go on, go cry to those officers out there how I am killing innocent girls in ritual sacrifice to the God of Death. Go on. See how quickly you are locked up. No one will believe you because you have no proof,” Petyr stated smugly, walking around his desk to stand before her. Sansa stood her ground though, shoulders pulled back as she glared heatedly at him. “You have no soapbox to stand on and if you come for me, you will regret it. I don’t think you realize how precarious your position truly is here, Sansa Stark. If I were you, I’d watch my back, not only in White Harbor, but also when you go home to Winterfell. If you come for me, we’ll come for you. We’re always watching, always listening and always lurking about. Remember that.” He reached up and pushed back a loose strand of hair behind her ear before lightly caressing her cheek.

Sansa stepped back, turning away and leaving the office. She moved as quickly as she could, trying to avoid running as she left the police station. She could feel Petyr’s gaze burning in her back, adding a burn to his scathing words. Sansa walked as far as her feet could take her, blindly rushing down the sidewalk without a destination in mind. She was so preoccupied with the turmoil and sickness inside that she scuffed her toes in her sandals on an uprooted slab of concrete causing her to trip.

Her hands slammed harshly against the concrete, scrapping the skin on her palms and one of her kneecaps too. Sansa gasped in pain, the urge to cry out was strong, but she managed to hold it at bay. She looked up from her bent over position, avoiding the gazes of a few people watching her and even waving an older man from helping her up. Sansa closed her hands into fists, urging herself to continue walking when she noticed a Sept further ahead.

It was an older church, dark grey compared to the many sandy colored stone buildings around it with chucks of brick broken here and there. Sansa stared hard at the church before walking to it with intentions of praying. As she came up to the church doors, she glanced back the way she came, almost expecting to see Petyr or Harry heading her way, but she saw no one recognizable to her. Sighing, she pushed open one of the double doors to enter the quiet church. A young Septa smiled at her with a soft greeting before she continued with whatever task she had been doing.

Sansa walked down the center lane, gazing at the empty pews then finally drawing her gaze up to the statues of the Seven. Her eyes immediately pinpointed the statue of the Stranger, shrouded in a cloak that covered his face though horns protruded out from the statue’s head. His face was hidden, much like how she had first seen him that night though his eyes glowed a blood red while the statue exuded no such thing. Sansa kept her gaze on Jon’s statue, walking over then seating herself at the front pew in front of the statue.

Letting out a deep-seated sigh, she leaned back against the pew. She took a slow breath then another and another before her shoulders started shaking and internally she was sobbing at the amount of fear still stirring inside her.

She wished she had never gone here for her graduation vacation. She wished she never met Harry. She wished she had never even left Winterfell. Sansa dropped her face into her hands, bending over her legs as she tried in vain to compose herself. She had read up everything to find about their cult, she knew they had other factions in different regions of Westeros. Even when she left here, she still would not be safe from them.

_“If you come for me, we’ll come for you.”_

If she did nothing then they’d leave her be, right? Sansa knew in her heart, beyond the fear where logic could be found that she was never going to be safe as long as she lived. They’d find her and kill her, finish the job from that night. She would be in constant danger even when home where Sansa had always felt so safe. She was a liability for Petyr, an unpredictable element that could sabotage their whole operation. She wasn’t stupid enough to believe that they’d let her live long.

Leaning up, Sansa brought her hands together in pray, mumbling the prayers her mother had instilled in her from such a young age. The Father, the Mother, the Maiden, the Crone, the Warrior, the Smith, and the Stranger. She prayed to them for strength, for wisdom, for guidance, and for freedom. She prayed they were listening, all of them; even Jon. Especially Jon.

He may not care for what was happening on earth in his name, but he might care if she was in danger, he might help if asked for it. Sansa didn’t know how she’d ask though. Inside her lurked a darkness she had never been aware of, one that wished for all of them to die and perish in a painful death deserving of such disgusting human beings. Yet she knew without a doubt that she could not allow that either. They deserved to serve time as their punishment, suffer in guilt if there is any to be had, and to suffer locked up.

Suddenly, a lightness came over her, easing the weight from her shoulders and suddenly, she could bear the solution to her problems so easily.

Slowly, the fear started to ebb away, draining out of her weakened body. Sansa lifted her head up from her hands, finding strength in the fact that she hadn’t cried during her moment of panic and fear, finding strength in her silent prayers. She stared off at the statues before her, her thoughts bringing up the images of those three missing girls and the many more that were still missing and not acknowledged. Her mind even brought up more images of girls that could be victims of ‘Shadows of the Stranger’ cult next.

Only she knew about their nefarious ways. Only she knew what they intended to do each year. Only she knew the information needed to bring them down. The only question to ask was: is she willing to do it?

Sansa pushed herself to stand, smiling up at the tall, stone statues before her. She then turned away to leave the church and walk back to the hotel to deal with her friends as a mission of sorts came to mind. She wasn’t special, she wasn’t extraordinary, or a hero. Sansa Stark was just like any normal girl. She loved wearing makeup, hanging out with her friends, and wanting a future in fashion. Her parents were loving yet strict. Her siblings annoying yet caring and protective. Her life had been so normal and easy going until that night, until she met Harry.

She was Sansa Stark, and she was going to take down a cult…

\------------------------

It took a lot of convincing to get Jeyne off her back. As plans formed in her mind, Sansa figured going to the local library to use their computers would be a good idea. Of course, her best friend didn’t seem to understand why Sansa would rather go do that than sunbathe on the beach. She was patient with her and eventually Jeyne hugged her and told her to call if she was in trouble.

Sansa was aiming to walk to the local library, but Jeyne and her boyfriend drove her there instead considering it was on the other side of town. She waved as they left then turned to look up at the White Harbor Library. It looked much like all the other buildings in the coastal town. White stone building that was aged rapidly by the salty air. It was two story with a large entrance way.

Sansa was immediately blasted with icy cold air-conditioning when she entered the building. The smell of old paper and leather embraced her, giving her a sense of nostalgia from the many times she had to visit the library in Winterfell. She smiled at the older woman behind the large, rounded desk near the entrance and proceeded to explore the library. She noted the large bookshelves lining the walls with tons of chairs, couches, and desks in the center of the bottom floor. There was a small section further to the left where a small deli and coffee shop sat with prewrapped sandwiches with a big sign stating all food and beverage was not to leave that area.

Glancing up, Sansa noticed more bookshelves upstairs, and since she didn’t see computers on the bottom floor, she assumed there’d be some on the second. The staircase was large with a curve near the top, going from straight to curving to the right and connecting with the second floor of the building. It was up there she found a small grouping of computers near the back of the building.

Sansa took the computer furthest from the rest, shaking the mouse to get to the desktop from the screensaver. With a sigh, she started her search.

It was harder than she realized, having only gotten the three missing girls from that morning first then barely anything after that. Sansa was determined though, knowing that most of them were probably not reported to be missing in White Harbor, so she expanded her search further out. She found five more girls that way, all ranging from sixteen to nineteen. Two from Moat Cailin, one from Widows Watch, another from Dreadfort Village, and the final one from Winterfell, just like Sansa.

Her stomach rumbled uncomfortably as she viewed the pictures of the young girls, all smiling and so happy. Sansa swallowed at the thickness in her throat and continued on her search, finding Facebook posts about the missing girls, ‘have you seen this person’ ads, and a few unsuccessful police reports. The more she found, the more she wanted to take down Harry and Petyr’s cult.

Sansa pulled up the notepad on her phone, writing down as much information as she could, including an address of one of the girls remaining families in White Harbor. Her name, Wylla Manderly. In her missing person’s photo showed a young girl about Sansa’s age with long green hair that contrasted her slim blonde eyebrows. She wore a playful smile in the picture, and Sansa could picture this girl with outrageous hair to be quite the wild child akin to her sister, Arya.

According to the missing person’s report, she’d been missing for five years now. Sansa could only imagine how many more girls were missing and actually dead because of the cult. She stared hard at the address of her only remaining family in White Harbor, a grandfather by the name of Wyman Manderly. She’d really hate to bother the old man, but if he had anything she could use against the cult then she had to try.

Swallowing back her anxiety and fear, Sansa brought up Maps on her phone, placing in the address and finding that he didn’t live far from where she was located. Close enough for her to walk there.

As she left the library, Sansa sent out a text to Jeyne that she’d get a taxi back to the hotel and to not worry about her. She noted that her best friend was leaving her on ‘read’, possibly upset by her distance lately. Sansa wished to make it up to Jeyne, but right now she was on a mission and nothing was going to get in her way.

She didn’t have much of a choice in the matter…

Sansa felt lucky that it was such a nice day out with an amazing cross breeze blowing through, otherwise she’d feel a lot worse with the sun bearing down on her from above. Though Wyman Manderly lived nearby, he also happened to live on a giant hill, making the trek harder for her. Luckily, she thought ahead and bought a water bottle from the small café in the library before leaving.

By the time she got up the hill, she was sweating profusely. Sansa wiped at the gathered sweat on her forehead, wincing at the amount that she wiped away. Glancing at her phone, she smiled in relief to see that his house was only a couple of feet ahead. She could make it out in the distance, a small house with light blue siding. It looked like most beach houses here in White Harbor.

During her trek, Sansa had come up with the best excuse she could think of as to why she’d be asking this old man about the disappearance of his granddaughter. She figured saying it was part of a school project, maybe even her senior project would work. Sansa gave herself a moment to collect herself after the long walk, drinking down the remainder of her water and tossing the bottle into a recycling can before she approached the house.

Gathering all her strength and courage, she knocked on the door then stepped back and waited. A minute went by though without a sound coming from within. Frowning, Sansa stepped forward again and knocked once more. Once another minute went by, she started losing hope that anyone was home. Glancing at the driveway, she took note of the old and rusted car. The paint job was chipping and rusting, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d think that the tire was also flat on the driver’s side.

Unless he had another car, Wyman Manderly should be home. Pulling her shoulders back, Sansa knocked much more loudly and multiple times before a shout from within made her jump back.

“Hold your Gods-damn horses! I’m coming!”

Sansa stepped back again, folding her hands in front of her as she waited. Eventually she heard the noises of locks coming undone then the main door opened behind the screen door to reveal a rather large old man. He was breathing deeply as though he were out of breath with a receding hair line and his jaw covered with a white/grey beard. He was tall too, taller than Sansa. He narrowed his eyes, staring her down in question.

“Oh, um, hello Mr. Manderly? I’m Sansa Stark, you don’t know me, but I am doing an essay about missing persons in White Harbor and-And what? You came here to ask me about my granddaughter, is that it?” he rudely questioned, cutting Sansa off. She had a feeling it would be like this.

“If I could just ask a few questions about her disappearance?” she continued on, hoping he wasn’t as stubborn as he looked.

“Look girl, if the police couldn’t do anything in the last five fucking years, then what makes you think you can? It’s summer, why the hell are you working on such a gruesome essay?” Mr. Manderly made some good points, but she was prepared for them.

“It’s apart of my college resume, I’m going into journalism. Also, I think I have a connection to who took your granddaughter Wylla Manderly.” He frowned deeply, his forehead wrinkling heavily as his brows came down over his small eyes. Sansa tried not to fidget underneath his hard stare.

“Fine, come in,” Mr. Manderly said gruffly, stepping back after swinging the screen door open. Sansa squeezed herself in pass him. “Living room on the right,” he commented as he started locking up again. She didn’t like that aspect but figured she could out run him if need be.

Looking about, she noticed the coziness of the living room. The floor was hardwood, a large couch placed underneath the large bay window at the front of the house by the door, a large comfortable looking chair to the left of the couch and an old-fashioned television on the tv stand. Sansa took in the light blue wall color then the frames littering the two tall shelves with the tv between them.

It was there she found more photos of Wylla Manderly.

“She was a stubborn girl, but brave. She always stood up for what she believed in which was sometimes a good thing and most of the times, a bad thing,” Mr. Manderly quipped as he entered the room. Sansa glanced behind her to see him walking with a cane then seating himself on the large chair with a sigh. “I loved my granddaughter, but she was a spit-fire personality, and rebellious too. Covering her beautiful blonde hair with that disgusting green hair dye.” Though she could tell he didn’t like her style, there was still an undercurrent of love behind his words.

And pain.

“When did you learn she was missing?” Sansa asked, turning away from the photos to sit on the couch. She pulled up her notepad on her phone, ready to type his answers. He eyed her phone questioningly then rolled his eyes with a mumbled, “fucking technology.”

“I got a call June 13th from her father, my son, Wylis stating she never came home that night and thought she crashed here. Normally both girls, Wylla and her older sister, Wynafryd would stay the night if they went out to the beach because I’m closer. I checked the spare bedroom, but she wasn’t there. It was that afternoon they called the police to state she was missing.” Mr. Manderly closed his eyes for a moment, sighing dejectedly.

Sansa nodded, glancing at her notes with her questions. “Do you know any of Wylla’s friends?” She frowned when he shook his head. “Anyone new in her life? A boyfriend perhaps?”

“Look Miss Stark, I’ve talked to the police and they asked the same damn questions and all you’re going to get are the same damn answers. You’d be best to ask her parents or sister,” he grumbled at the end. She could tell he was getting to his wits end, obviously not liking this trip down memory lane.

“You said Wylla was rebellious, so she partied a lot?” He scoffed at her question.

“Always. Right down at the beach, every Saturday there’d be some damn party with a bonfire and drinking. Wynafryd wasn’t about that, but Wylla was.”

“Did she-What connection were you talking about earlier?” Sansa frowned at being cut off once more. He was such a trying old man. It was the look in his eyes though, that clued her in that he might know more too.

“Okay,” Sansa started, pursing her lips together in thought. Thinking quickly, she pulled up her Facebook, typing in Harry’s name to pull up his picture. She noticed they were friends on there, him having accepted it the day they met. Clicking on his profile picture, she turned her phone around for Mr. Manderly to see. “Have you ever seen this guy around Wylla?”

He reached over to take her phone then grabbed a pair of reading glasses off the table between the chair and couch. He studied the picture then nodded much to Sansa’s relief.

“Yes, but he came around after she was missing. He asked questions like you though he was a smug little fucker. A year younger than Wylla and not her type, I figured he was a friend but…” he started frowning heavily again, deeply in thought.

“I met him, Harry Hardyng three days ago and invited him to a bonfire with my friends,” Sansa stated softly, feeling the tension build up in her shoulders as she thought of what that night entailed afterwards.

“He wasn’t a friend, was he?” Mr. Manderly asked quietly, staring down hard at Harry’s image on her phone.

“No, he wasn’t.”

“He killed her, didn’t he?” Sansa felt sick to her stomach once more. It was like the air around them became thick and it was almost hard to breath.

Instead of answering with a simple ‘yes’, Sansa opted to continue her story. “I was walking with him on the beach then everything went dark.”

“Child,” Mr. Manderly mumbled, leaning forward in his seat. He set her phone down while peering at her. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Sansa flushed at the concern in his voice and quickly shook her head.

“No, no. He almost did though, you see…Harry Hardyng is apart of a cult called-‘Shadows of the Stranger’,” he finished knowingly. “You know?” Sansa asked, surprised though really, she probably shouldn’t be considering she figured he knew more than he was letting on.

“Wynafryd snooped around, learned of the cult and figured Wylla joined in, but…she’s dead, right? They killed her?” Mr. Manderly leaned back, looking far more exhausted than before.

Sansa looked down, not wanting to say it. “Once every year, they sacrifice a virgin girl to the Stranger and…I was almost that girl this year…”

“You escaped?” Sansa swallowed, wondering how she could answer that without telling the truth. Obviously, she should agree.

“Yes, I escaped.”

“Why haven’t you gone to the police then? You are proof that they are trying to kill innocent girls!”

“Mr. Manderly, it’s not that simple,” Sansa stressed, realizing she wasn’t going to truly get anything out of being here. The old man didn’t know any more than she did, if anything she had only brought up terrible memories for him.

She looked up to see him giving her a hard stare, frowning deeply in thought. Sansa glanced down at what she had written in her notepad, wondering what else she could possibly do. Suddenly, he started standing up again, grunting as he shifted his weight then used the cane to steady himself once he was up.

“Follow me,” Mr. Manderly grumbled, leaving out through the hall. Sansa got up quickly, following him down the hall until he stopped in front of one door. He produced a key, placing it inside the lock and twisting it open.

Sansa wasn’t sure if she should follow him inside, but when he called out for her, she had no choice though she kept her eyes on the door incase she had to make a quick escape. Stepping into the locked room, her eyes went immediately wide as she took in all the pictures on the wall. It was like what she would expect from a police procedural on tv. There was a map of White Harbor on one section of the wall with red string linking areas on the map, including the police station being circled numerous times.

Another section of the wall held pictures of not only Wylla Manderly, but also a few of the girls Sansa had found online, but Mr. Manderly had much, much more. Sansa felt sick to her stomach as she realized there was well over thirty girls pinned to the wall underneath a headline stating, ‘missing’. Taking in the room further, she noted a bigger map of Westeros with indications of where the girls had lived around including another map of Essos.

On the wall to her right near the door was where she found information not only on the disappearances via newspaper articles, but also information on the cult too. Sansa’s breath hitched as she took in the images of Petyr Baelish.

“What is this, Mr. Manderly?” Sansa asked in shock, finally turning around to take him in with newly opened eyes. He was smirking at her awe, shrugging his shoulders in a sense of pride.

“Back in the day, I used to be an investigative reporter. Some things never die.” He turned his attention onto the many pictures, articles, and maps around them. “I wasn’t happy with how the police were dealing with my granddaughter’s disappearance. Wynafryd felt the same, so we created this room together to try and piece everything together and try to figure out what happened to Wylla. Since I have connections still in the police station, I thought to talk with a few of the investigators. I’ve met with Detective Baelish on a few occasions, and I know a slimy rat when I see one, Miss Stark. He’s hindered the investigation to the point that it’s been dropped to a cold case for now. I don’t know if he’s getting paid or not by the cult…”

Sansa walked over to the pictures of the missing girls. Her eyes watered as she realized she was almost another picture added to this list if not for Jon, the Stranger. Discreetly wiping at a lone tear off her cheek, Sansa turned back to Mr. Manderly, “Petyr Baelish isn’t getting paid by the cult, he’s their leader. He is the cult.”

She watched as Mr. Manderly’s nostrils flared in anger, his eyes flashing over to the pictures that most likely his granddaughter, Wynafryd had taken for their room. He started mumbling underneath his breath, moving rather swiftly to the table in front of the ‘missing’ pictures and White Harbor map. Sansa watched as he shifted through the folders there, producing one with Petyr Baelish’s name on it.

“I suspected he had something to do with the cult, but to be their leader…damn, I should have connected that. Are you sure?” Mr. Manderly looked up from the folder.

“Yes, I am sure. I had the misfortune of coming across him today, it’s why I looked up the missing girls and Wylla, why I came here to talk to you.” Sansa squared her shoulders as she said, “I want to take the ‘Shadows of the Stranger’ down, Mr. Manderly. I want Harry and Petyr to pay for what they have done to these poor girls and what was almost done to me.”

“Are you asking for my help, girl?” he asked sternly, but she could see how taken back he was by her.

“Yes, I am.” Sansa leveled the old man with a strong gaze then lifted her hand to shake as partners. Mr. Manderly eyed her hand, glancing between her eyes and hand before smiling genuinely and taking hold of her hand to shake.

“Then let’s take down a cult, Miss Stark.”…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that there was no Jon in this chapter, he will show up in the next, promise! Now some unpacking here. Sansa gets spooked by Petyr and his threats and decides after reflecting in a church that she wants to take him and his cult down! Hell yeah! Next she comes to Manderly where she learns he's a retired investigative reporter and now their teaming up. But Alishia, you say, she has Jon, why wouldn't she just have him kill the cult members. So glad you asked! Well, Sansa still believes in justice and still has a heavy moral compass, hence why she wouldn't just want Jon to kill them, plus how does that help with finding the missing girls? I thought long and hard about this (three months long, almost), and plus Sansa is still unsure how Jon feels about her too, does he truly want her or will he set her aside once she gives herself to him? 
> 
> Since I am going to develop this further, things are going to slow a tad bit. I am still trying to get a set plotline going though (I hate writing without a general direction, that's where WIP's end up abandoned on my end), so please be patient with me! Thank y'all so much for reading and please let me know whatcha think!? ^_~


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